


A New Star in the Sky

by Stardust_and_Blades



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Reality, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Character Death, Crying, Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Lotor just trying to get the shit he needs, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post Season 4, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Sad Lance (Voltron), Sad Shiro (Voltron), Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Slow Burn, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Supportive Lance (Voltron), The slowest, blade of marmora, do i really need to tag all the sadness, dont trust him, everyone is fucking sad, here is the pain we narrowly avoided, im working on it, its gonna be a wild ride prepare children, kinda major death, oopsie almost forgot space uncle, remember how bad that could have gotten?, remember that shield incident, sad team voltron, y'all will find out, yeah it comes up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 96,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stardust_and_Blades/pseuds/Stardust_and_Blades
Summary: After the sudden intervention of a newly fugitive Lotor and the loss of a large part of the rebellion, Team Voltron is offered a potential saving grace against the war through opening another reality. Despite everyone's disagreement on the matter, Shiro and Allura takes matters into their own hands and agreed to aiding Lotor in his desire to open a rift. Keith is appalled. Lance disapproves of the leadership choices being made. And Hunk and Pidge keep an eye out for any signs of deceit. Little do they know their worst nightmares live beyond that rift--one where Keith is gone. And one that shakes both realities to a point of no return.





	1. A Single Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow readers! I'm Shania. This is my first ever fanfic I am so excited to finally show you. I wrote this about a month ago, but had to wait for an invitation. 
> 
> I'm very new to the fanfic world, so please be nice! Comments and kudos would be much appreciated so I know if I'm doing okay!
> 
> Whelp, onto the reading!

“I think it is time we had a discussion.” Lotor’s voice echoes through the speakers of both voltron and fellow rebel fighters. The entire voltron team was shocked by the sudden turn of events, while keith approached the situation cautiously, assuming various reasons as to why Lotor would appease his enemy. 

“And why should we trust you? You are the son of Zarkon, heir to the throne.” Allura said, skeptical of Lotor’s intentions. “Why would you help your enemy?”

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, are you not?” He replied, a smile creeping up on his face. The princess certainly is no fool. She may be young and hibernated for 10,000 years, but she holds the spirit of the Red Paladin of Old with a fierce grasp. It makes her an excellent paladin. But more importantly, it made her a beneficial factor in his plan to overthrow his father. He will not waste away in the depths of the universe as a means of survival. He is a galran warrior; an influential figure of the Galran higher class. His generals have abandoned him. His mother joined with the very essence of the galaxy. He had nothing left to lose but plenty to gain.

“You are of no friend of mine.” Allura spat. She opened her mouth to turn him down, but the speakers of her pink helmet crackled with excitement as an authoritative tone made its way. 

“Princess,” Shiro started, weary himself of the sudden display of openness. “I understand where you are coming from. However we need as much information as we can get.”

Allura angled her glare in the direction of the black paladin. “He contains no foundation of worthy sources or consideration for the planets we liberated. He lead an attack on us using the emergency device we gave the Puigan’s.”

“She’s right, Shiro.” Keith added. “Lotor had been drawing us out for months and disappearing at a time. This could be one of his traps.”

“Yet he destroyed Haggar’s ship and prevent the imminent destruction of Voltron and several civilizations.” Shiro reasoned, giving no sign of backing down. He didn’t like the situation anymore than Allura and Keith did, but if this meant furthering Voltron’s goal in taking down Zarkon, risks had to be made. 

“I’m not saying he becomes part of the team. But there is no harm in seeing what he is willing to offer. We did that with the Blade of Marmora, we can do it again.”

“Last time I checked the Blade’s objective and Lotor’s were two very different things.” Pidge grumbled in to the mic, not exactly seeing eye to eye with Shiro, but seeing no use in fighting him on it. 

“Shiro--” Allura and keith started.

“Everyone head to the castle,” Shiro interjected, no desire to go in circles over the subject again. “ Keith, bring the Blade with you. Coran, prepare for boarding. Stay on your guard though. And Lotor?”

“Yes, Black Paladin?” He mused.

“You are to come unarmed. Any sense you pose a threat, we will not hesitate to retaliate.” Shiro warned. 

“I have a bad feeling about this.” Lance said. Of course, no one took notice of this opinion. If Shiro wasn’t willing to listen to him when Nacxala began to entrap them in the bubble of its planet, he sure as hell isn’t going to listen to him now. Even with Allura’s angry squak as she slammed down the communication button and Keith’s exhausted sigh. It frustrated Lance. He is the red paladin now; Shiro’s right hand man (literally). They were supposed to make these decisions as a team. But lately...Weirdly, he is starting to wish Keith remained the leader. He jumps the gun the moment an opportunity hits to take down the totalitarian-esque, planet destroying empire, but at least he learned how to listen. Lance once upon a time believed Shiro was the perfect leader. He thought Keith would be the end of Voltron when the Black lion chose him. But as the light steps of Keith’s hideous boots drifted into memory and Shiro’s painfully loud one’s came within earshot, he realized he was wrong. 

 

Keith and the blades were the first to arrive at the castle. He kept a watchful eye out for Lotor, never leaving the landing dock unattended with Coran by his side. He didn’t trust this guy as far as he can throw him. Lotor isn’t against toying with the paladins, he’s done it before. Overtaking a newly liberated planet and force the leader of the civilization to contact the paladins for a wild goose chase does not exactly make for a good first impression. He may have offered a possible advantage in the fight against Zarkon, but there is always an underlying reason lurking in the depths of an enemy. Keith doubts he is doing this from the kindness of his heart. He is Zarkon’s son, and last time he checked anyone considered close to the ruthless emperor has a vendetta against Voltron and the princess.

“So Keith,” Coran piped up, interrupting Keith’s revery. He jumped a little, the high pitch excitement of the advisor contrasting the quiet nature of the Blades. “What were you planning?”

“Huh? Nothing really. Shiro wasn’t listening to me. I didn’t have much of a plan but--”

“No, Keith. I meant ‘What were you planning.’ ” Coran emphasized the word “planning” in a softer tone. His body was aimed towards the ship entrance, but his head wa angled towards keith, concern swimming in his normally dancing eyes.

Before Keith could respond a Galran ship made it on the platform. Keith immediately tensed, the mask taking form and a hand laying near his hip, ready to attack if necessary. The Blade members surrounding the area directed their attention to the aircraft, equally on guard. Kolivan came up behind Keith and Coran. He towered over the two men, making them seem less intimidating and more like two midgets ready to get their asses kicked. 

Lotor exited the ship and approached them.

“I take the paladins aren’t here yet.” He said, the smug look never leaving his features. He turned to Coran. “You must be Princess Allura’s advisor. And you,” He angled his gaze towards Keith. He raised an eyebrow. “You must be half galra. What is your name?”

“That is none of your concern. What do you want with voltron?”

“That is to be discussed when the paladin’s arrive. You are not a paladin, therefore I will not disclose any information you demand.” 

Keith gritted his teeth, but said nothing else. Technically he is right. Keith isn’t a paladin. He gave that up the moment he joined the Blade of Marmora. He is no longer entitled to voltron affairs except in the cases of galran empire matters. No matter how much he wanted to take precautions with Lotor, his chances of being treated as an equal is as high as liberated planets accepting the Blade of Marmora as heroes. 

A pang went through his chest. Being alone was all he ever knew. From a young age he had to place up barriers around society and build walls against anyone who tried to have even the slightest interest in him as a human being. The walls briefly came down upon the entrance of Shiro, a hammer in hand and a determined smile as he threw down the first hit. Slowly, Keith opened up. The cold abyss of his heart tinged with warmth, and his stoic act began to peel away. But just as soon as the walls crumbled into dust, they built right back up into concrete on the day the Kerberos mission failed. He lost his chance of becoming the talented pilot Shiro commended him for. The person who he considered an older brother, a voice of unconditional support, was no longer behind him. Instead, all he had was an abandoned shed in the desert, an old rusty motorcycle prototype the garrison had hidden away, and burning rage towards the universe that condemned him.  
However, his concrete walls too chipped away. Despite it being a slower rate, he found himself among friends who accepted him. Save for Lance, who for some reason thought they had an intense rivalry taking place. As they grew accustomed to each other’s personality though, Keith became fond of the blue paladin. And as that fondness bloomed, so did some strange feelings Keith never knew. He didn’t consider Lance an enemy, nor a friend. No, the amount of times Keith was breathless and giddy with happiness meant more than just platonic feelings. He did hate Lance’s flirtatious actions with any conceivably female-looking species, especially with Allura. Every time he flirts with the princess ten years are deducted from Keith’s lifespan.

Which made Keith want to shove those walls right back up and never allow anyone back in for a third time in a fucking row. It didn’t take long for those walls to come back stronger than ever, for as soon as he saw his teammates look at him with disappointment and rejection, the remains of previous barriers flew up into unbreakable obsidian. 

Sometimes you have to reject what you want in order to protect yourself. 

“Yes well. You won’t be waiting long. They are almost here.” Coran said, terse in his statement. 

“KEEEEEITTTHHHH.” Yelled an unknown voice. The ex-paladin lifted his head to see who screamed his name. Matt came barrelling towards Keith, tripping a few times in the process due to his gangly legs. He shoved Lotor aside, and if it weren’t for the serious situation and his mask, Keith would have laughed at the offended expression creasing the Galra prince’s features.

“Holy quiznak you’re okay. Thank GOD.” He placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders, as if to confirm that he really was there and not some figment of his imagination.

“Uh...Hi?”

Matt squinted his eyes. “Hi? HI? That’s all you have to say? You almost--ACK.” The blonde cut off immediately, his body overtaken by a smaller figure doned in green armor and a shit eating grin on her face.

“I’m so glad to see you. I thought we were goners for sure.” She said.

Matt got up and hugged her, the two taking a moment to themselves after everything. Keith had to resist the urge to hug her and the other teammates in said moment. An hour ago they were all facing death, including himself. Now they are back safe and sound, and Keith couldn’t be any more grateful. 

Leaving the siblings to bond, he headed towards the lions. Coran was embracing Allura, ignoring the bored prince loitering to the side of the scene. Allura, though wrapped in a hug, kept her eyes open, never straying from Lotor’s form. He could be plotting to slaughter them all, but not if Allura has anything to do about it. Zarkon stole Altea from her. She will not let his failed prodigee take her second family away too.

As soon as Shiro, Hunk, and Lance came into view, Keith quickened his pace. Lance was busy talking to Hunk, babbling about how all the ladies in the universe would have mourned his unfortunate death and create a monument to honor him. As he did, he noticed from the corner of his eye a dark figure approaching. When he realized it was Keith, he was caught between running to the small marmorite for a long overdue embrace after several months, or standing there like an idiot. Naturally, Lance did neither. Instead he tripped over his own two feet and crashed. It’s one thing for it to happen around Allura, it’s another when it happens in front of his fucking rival. At least Allura he can woo. With his head against the ground he awaited the insults to flow out of Keith’s mouth. It’s what Keith does best in the presence of Lance’s idiocy.

“You okay?” Keith asked, lending a hand towards Lance. Lance blinked, scanning Keith’s face for any signs of deceit. His violet eyes bored down on him with concern, a thousand stars sparkling in the calm purple hue that mirrors the galaxy the team had travelled over and over again. It made Lance’s stomach flop in response, prompting a pink blush to creep on the nape of his neck. They may have seen a lot of stars, yet it did not come close to the wild beauty in those unphased orbs. 

He cleared his throat and put on his best smug grin. “Never better, Samurai. Nothing can take down the new red paladin, not even a bomb.”

Keith rolled his eyes but kept his hand where it is. “Just let me help you up.” 

“Well if you insist.” Lance gingerly grabbed his hand. He ignored the ever present “HOLY FUCK” blaring in the back of his brain. It must be the near death experience thing, for he was definitely NOT basking in the minor touch. It was simply they have not seen each other for a long time.

Meanwhile, Hunk and Shiro were enjoying the subtle display of affection. Hunk with his big knowing grin, Shiro with his supportive, proud glint aimed towards Keith. He had a bad habit of staying mentally fifty feet away from people, so to see him be so open was refreshing. 

“Paladin’s,” Allura called out. “It’s time.”

The playful, relieved atmosphere dissipated. Lance and Keith separated from themselves, realizing their fun was over and the real challenge begins.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What you’re asking is on par with invading a weblum.” 

“Is anything truly safe now, Princess?” Lotor said. He stood across from Allura, a dark, towering contrast to the princess’s diplomatic and welcoming aura. They glared daggers at one another, and if not for Shiro remaining by Allura’s side she would have called off the meeting immediately at Lotor’s suggestion.

She balled up her fists at her sides. “You want us to help you enter another reality for an abundance of quintessence? The last time it was attempted Zarkon was born and Altea was destroyed. Your plan is not only a poorly constructed theory, but places voltron on the line.”

“That is true,” He started, pointing at the diagram of the solar system and lions. “But technology in the Galra empire has advanced in the past 10,000 years. They have not continued to discover other realities, but they have stabilized what was considered defective during Altea’s existence.” 

He moved his finger towards the lions, his lips curving upwards. “Plus your lions are made out of pure quintessence. If anything is to survive the jump, it’s them.”

“Why should we help you? You haven’t exactly been friendly.” Pidge asked, skeptical of Lotor’s intentions. 

“Zarkon’s witch is more determined than ever to eradicate the universe of your presence. While its true they no longer dabble in alternate realities, previously she managed to bring forth a species from another realm to aid her in her experiments and ensure Zarkon’s long lasting reign.” A dark shadow took over Lotor. “There is no telling how far she will go.”

“Oooookaaaayyy...So evil witch lady wants to kill us. That is nothing new. How again would this benefit us?” Lance waved his hand in the air to emphasize his point.

The prince folded his arms, the shadow over his eyes dissipating and his back straightened. “If the witch can find a special species to further her plot, then you may find a weapon to give you an upper hand against the Galra empire.”

Saying Lotor expected gleeful acceptance is a lie. However he did expect some form of interest in the slightest possibility of taking down his father faster. To be met with a slew of narrow eyes and silence...Not quite his plan. The princess closed her eyes and took deep breath, no doubt to tell him she did not agree with his way of gaining an advantage and would refuse any form an allegiance with him. It would be a strategic move--but foolish.

“Princess?” Shiro softly exclaimed. He laid his metal hand on her shoulder as she turned to him, her frown deepening as she stared at him. She narrowed her eyes. With a huff she requested Lotor to stay outside the premises for the paladin’s and leaders of the Blade and Rebels to discuss the issue. With a knowing grin, he bowed to the princess, no need to fight her on the matter. He believed they would make the right choice. 

“You can’t seriously be considering this.” Keith exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind Lotor. He wasn’t a leader, but he’d be damned if they thought they were going to leave him out of a potential trip to an alternate timeline. He already knows how that went down. Shiro has no idea what dangers lie ahead if they go through with this. 

“I’m with Keith on this one.” Lance said. “We have been to an alternate reality, Shiro. It wasn’t good. By opening another reality we leave a chance for whatever threat on the other side to invade our reality.”

“That is what alternate Alteans wanted to do.” Hunk further explained. “ Heck, they could still be trying and who knows if we would enter that same one. We may have voltron, but that doesn’t make us invincible.”

“I’m aware.” Shiro said. He had his metal hand to his chin, juggling the thoughts of the team and himself. “But...”

“But what? The last time you went against our judgement we ended up stuck in a ticking time bomb. If not for Allura we would be dead.” Lance was agitated enough with their near death a few hours ago. Now was not the time to put everyone in jeopardy for another round. Especially not for the likes of Lotor. Keith and The Blade he can accept as Galra allies due to their desire to end tyranny and spread peace. From what Lance has experienced with Lotor, his intentions are bound to be corrupted in some sort.

Shiro lifted his gaze towards Lance. “I don’t trust Lotor either, but we need all the help we can get. We lost a vital amount of the rebellion in the fight, and the Blade is running out of men to send on missions.” His gaze lowered, concern and sadness overlaying his features. “If we don’t take the little, maybe even risky, help we can get, we will be out of resources soon.”

Keith, still not fully convinced, angled his body towards the Marmora leader. “Kolivan, is there any news about the new recruits?”

“There is. We are slowly gaining some numbers. But not as fast as we are losing them. I’m afraid many of the Galra are too petrified to rise up now that Zarkon is back on the throne.”

Keith sighed, not finding an alternative that wasn’t already rocky. Allura tapped her fingers against the pane of the ship’s controls. Alternate Realities were a sensitive subject for her. She stumbled upon a reality with Alteans, yet they went against everything Allura believed in. As much as Allura wanted them as valuable allies, she ended up wrong in her personal opinion. Risking the team--her family--all over again would be a lethal mistake. Keith was the voice of reason to her in the other reality, this could be no different. On the other hand, Shiro had a point. 

Their forces were severely depleted. They withhold no extreme weaponry besides Voltron, and while the coalition gathered a significant amount of allies, their odds of finding more is under a time constraint. They may be able to enlist the help of the Olkari in technical advancements as the Galra had, but determining if it is enough is up in the air. 

She closed her eyes. “Bring in Lotor and get some rest. Tomorrow we attempt an alternate reality jump.”

Lance whipped his head towards her in disbelief. “But princess--”

She raised her hand to silence him. “I know. But as Shiro said, we are at a severe disadvantage. If there is any signs of deceit we will call it off, but as of now we are to follow through.”

“He STOLE a COMET from us!” 

“Keith! That is enough. A decision has been made.” Shiro said with a glare. “If you have a problem with it, you are free to stay out of the mission.”

Keith gritted his teeth, keeping his mouth shut. He ignored the concerned glances from Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. Shiro had hardly snapped at him in such a way; save for the time Keith arrived too late to pilot the black lion and save his teammates from being slaughtered. All due to his negligence. 

Maybe Shiro is right. Maybe there is a benefit to Lotor’s help. Keith has been wrong on many occasions: attacking Zarkon head on, dragging his teammates on a failed hunt for Lotor, him possibly being a reason to Zarkon’s tracking, the list goes on. Keith has been wrong tons of times, its no wonder Lance refers to him as a Hothead. A dropout. Shiro...Shiro was a calming wave, careful and admired. The little push in one’s confidence, the gentle wind amidst a harsh storm, the comforting pat on one’s back after a long day of fighting exams or your inner demons. He is wiser and far more valuable than disciplinary issue Keith. 

“Uh...Keith? Buddy? You okay?” 

He jumped at the higher pitched tone. Lance had turned to him fully, light brown eyebrows furrowed in small wrinkles, hand on hip, and crystal blue swimming with worry. Lance hardly showed any concern for Keith. Most of the time they were bickering or poking fun at one another. Right now though was not open to fun and games, and if not for Keith’s racing thoughts he would be burning under the gaze with an intensity rivaling the atmosphere of their previous fight. Shiro may calm Keith down, but man does Lance sure know how to bring the nerves back. 

In a strangled voice he said, “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

Lance stared at him for a moment longer, but eventually let it drop. Allura excused everyone for a night of rest. Lotor was escorted in by Coran, and the two plus Shiro devised a plan for the transport.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Keith arrived at his old room he almost keeled over flat on the floor. His body pulsed with bruises from the Galra fights. Add nearly throwing yourself into a shield and you have a very exhausted boy. He began to strip off his Marmora armor, but stopped. His flimsy red jacket, dark jeans and t-shirt were nowhere to be found. Not even his boots. He groaned, no desire to hunt down his only pair of comfortable clothes around a large castle. It would take hours. 

Resigned to sleeping in his armor, he nearly missed the light knock on his door. 

“Shiro if you’ve come to talk about earlier, I am not in the mood.” He grumbled as he opened the door. His eyes grew wide as he took in the lanky body and tanned skin of the individual.

“Sorry, Shiro is busy lending Allura a hand in intimidation tactics with Lotor. Though, if you ask me Allura needs no help.” Lance grinned, winking at him as if he was another one of his flirt victims. It was too late, he is already a victim. This boy will be the death of him, what with his cute smile and his beautiful eyes and his contagious laughter. He breathed in and tried to shove the thoughts to the side of his mind. He looked down to see what Lance had in his hands, and low and behold, there were his clothes.

“Oh. Where were they?” Keith pointed at the pile.

“Hunk washed them when you were away. He didn’t want you coming home to dirty clothes.”

“That was...nice. I’ll have to thank him.” He reached out to take the clothes from Lance. As he did, his fingers lightly brushed the tip of Lance’s fingers, making his heart jump in his throat. He almost dropped the clothes right there, but managed to deepen the grip on the material as to not make a fool of himself. 

As for Lance, he couldn’t stop staring at the dark haired boy. It had been months since Keith’s departure with very little visits and even less contact. He was either on a mission for Galra intel, or the voltron coalition was spreading their influence from planet to planet. The clanks of metal in the training room died down, not nearly used as much anymore. The color red faded from Lance’s vision, always surprised to see the lack of the jacket whenever he turned to make a joke. The castle became quieter; less familiar. The flame powering the group was nothing but a dull flicker, occasionally rising from the depths of smoke, but never fully returning. 

Lance missed the fire Keith provided. He ached for fighting side by side in the heat of battle, blasting one enemy and cutting down the next. He yearned for the gentle breathing in the recreational area when Keith couldn’t make it to his room for shut eye. Lance would always walk in on his sleeping and drape a blanket around his body. Most importantly, he missed the soft glances he would send Lance’s way when he thought no one was looking. Or more likely, when he thought Lance wasn’t looking. They’ve had their moments. It doesn’t mean Lance cares about him any less. If anything, it grew ten times more during his absence with the Blade of Marmora. 

“That’s Hunk for you. A mother hen.” Lance shoved his hands in his pockets and began to turn away. “Well, I’m off to hit the hay. Goodnight, hothead.”

“Right back at you.” He turned to go back in his room, but a thought occurred to him.

“Hey Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” He motioned with the clothes for emphasis.

“No problem. You know where the blankets are if the jacket doesn’t keep you warm.”

Keith growled. “Stop nitpicking at my clothes!”

Oh yes.

Lance definitely missed their banter.


	2. When You're Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update is here! It is 3 AM. RIP.
> 
> God I hope this writing is fine. I don't have a Beta reader.   
> #MattIsAShitInThisChapter
> 
> Enjoy the angst MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Matt didn’t know how to bring up the shield incident to the team.

He knew he had to tell them. They deserve to know how far Keith is willing to go to take down Zarkon. A...Concerning amount of will. He is well aware a war is not without sacrifice, not without loss and risk. He heard the same panic in the team’s voice as the planet ticked away the seconds of its approaching demise. He could sense the fear in Katie’s shaky breaths coming through the speakers of his aircraft. If he could give his life so his sister would make it through this burdensome war, he would in a heartbeat. But not without saying goodbye.

Keith said nothing as he was flying towards that barrier. Leaving an all too familiar sense of dread harvest in Matt’s stomach. No one secured in their own skin and worth is that willing to die without saying a measly goodbye. No one mentally sound, that is.

As soon as the meeting was adjourned and the crew separated into their designated bedrooms, Matt followed Katie to her lodgings, hoping to at least pull her aside and voice his concerns. Keith wasn’t going to listen to Matt--they weren’t that close. Not as close as he is with Shiro. He could inform his former superior, but as of now he was in a meeting with Allura, Lotor, and Coran. He also had a mission to quickly go on, leaving no room for pleasantries and relaxation. If he could inform someone Keith is maybe close to before he leaves, then his mind would be more at peace. And maybe Keith would stop throwing his life around like expendable plastic.

“Matt, we need you at the landing deck.” A female voice called out behind him. Matt stopped, allowing Olia to catch up.

“We are leaving so soon?”

“I’m afraid so. With our forces depleted it is best to take those injured back to one of our hidden bases. We need you to fly one of the ships.”  
“But--”

“You can rest up on the ship, we will be taking turns flying.” She continued, her eyes ridden with anxiety and dog-like nose twitched on reflex. “But we don’t know when the Galra will attack again. So we have to move fast.”

He sighed to himself. Leave it to fate to intervene at the worst possible moment. He followed Olia, but vowed to contact Katie as soon as the transmissions were up. This is too important to be ignored.   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Staying behind is not part of the deal.”

“You’re right. It is a condition to helping your outrageous plan.” Allura responded just as quickly. Lotor stared down at Allura, his eyes narrow and arms folded in a tight vice. 

“You do not contain the knowledge on gathering quintessence. Entering a rift is a dangerous procedure and cannot be made light of.”

Allura raised up her chin, revealing no signs of backing down from her decision. “While that is true, you can run us through the dynamics while we are here.” She took a step towards his form, back straight and eyes never wavering. “I am no fool. Your loyalty lies in yourself, not in I or your father. I trust your science but I do not trust your purpose.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you will remain a fugitive with no means of following through on your plans. You are wanted by Zarkon, abandoned by your generals, and without resources on your own. We may be low on support, but we are doing far better than you.”

Lotor stared down at her, void of any signs of being affected by Allura’s blunt words. Allura was placing their potential advantage on the line, but that was nothing compared to the possibility of being betrayed by Lotor. All he proposed to them on the table does not mean he has a trick up his sleeve. He could be planning to abandon them in the alternate reality. He could be trying to get them killed. Precautions must be made, even if Shiro disagrees with her way of handling the situation. She has been through war,witnessing the fall of her planet and the death of her father. She refuses to be a pawn in someone else’s game. 

She waited for him to call off the mission. Or a challenge to her logic. But instead, his expression morphed into amusement, the ends of his lips curving upwards and revealing a single sharp fang peeking from beneath. 

“If were you born of galra descent, you would have been one of my generals. Very well, princess. If that is the condition I must obey.” He took a step back, but did not release Allura from his gaze. She cleared her throat, turning her attention to the blueprint Lotor displayed at the beginning of the meeting, ignoring the twist in her gut over Lotor’s strange acceptance. 

By the next quientent the paladins and blades were prepped for the entrance through the rift. They were to enter in the same place as Dibazaal once stood, believing it to hold more quintessence than a random area of space. It has been over 10,000 years since the last rip in space and time, but Lotor felt it had a better percentage of success. 

Keith, Kolivan, and two other blade members were agreed upon tagging along in case anything went awry midst the mission. Keith was small enough to fit in the tight cockpit that was Red, but the other blade members took a little bit more room than usual. Nevertheless, they managed. Coran, Lotor, and the remaining blade members were to stay behind and keep an eye on the rift and Lotor. 

“Okay team,” Shiro started. “Prepare yourselves. Remember why we are doing this.”

“Because you and Allura have finally cracked?” Pidge commented.

“For the coalition.” Allura corrected, irritation ebbing in her voice.

“I really don’t have a good feeling about this, guys. What if we get vaporized?” Hunk panicked, praying to whatever deity there is that they don’t die in a horrible blaze of fire (rather than the glory Lance would like). 

“I know you’re scared. But we went through everything with Lotor. The worst that can happen is it doesn’t work.” Shiro said. Hunk relaxed a little, but that still didn’t calm the nerves running in his system. 

“Paladins,” Lotor said through the intercom. “The rift is about to activate. Once the area glows blue, go through it. You will have exactly 2 quintents before it shuts. If you do not get back by then, we will not be able to retrieve you.”

“How do we know you wont leave us there?” Lance accused.

“Now if I were to do that, I wouldn’t get what I need, would I?” 

Lance let out a hum of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else. As the forming rift began to slowly glow a bright blue, the crew assembled into voltron and approached the passage. Without so much as touching the controls, the team was immediately pulled into its opening, dousing them in a hue of turquoise and floating bits of golden orbs. A white light shown to those outside of the craft, eliciting an anxious frown on Coran’s face. Lotor never took his eyes off the vessel. He failed last time. He will not fail again. 

The travel inside was not necessarily painful, but it was a large force to take in. The pressure of the opening cascaded around them, making the lions seem almost suffocating. The light was bright enough to burn their retinas, prompting the team to shut their eyes tight and hope for the best. The blade members quickly put on their masks to dull the harshness of the rift. Their goggles took on a murky purple color, bathing their eyesight in a gentler hue. Their lions began to vibrate, prompting a slight panic over the lions suddenly separating and throwing the team in chaos. 

“We are almost through...” Shiro said, strained.

“I hope so, Red doesn’t like this.” Lance replied, noticing how Red sent out signals of judgement through the bond. It wasn’t nearly as strong as it was with him and Blue, or Red and Keith, but it didn’t seem to hate him. 

“If we live through this, remind me to kick you in the shin, Shiro.” Pidge said, angling a pointed look in the direction of the black paladin. She received a chuckle in return. 

Before anyone else could say anything, a glimmer of darkness bloomed, the light of the rift receding into the ether. Once they were surrounded by familiar stars and a black sky, they looked behind themselves to see if it worked.

No castle.

No Lotor.

No Coran.

Lotor’s plan actually worked.

“Oh yeah! Razzle dazzle ti-” Lance was interrupted by a loud, metallic groan. Lance and Keith searched the cockpit in a crazed haste, fearing Red was damaged from the pass through. The groaning continued, now emitting from the other lions in a booming wave of metal against metal. The lights of the stations flickered on and off, the panels switching from ten different settings in a span five seconds. 

“What’s happening?!” Keith yelled, gripping Red’s chair as the lion shook and moved haphazardly. 

Allura crackled through the intercoms, static struggling to overpower her. “I think the lions have been fed too much quintessence. They are short circuiting--shiro---can’t----what are---no getting ba--” The transmission gave out. And so did voltron.

Screams rang out as the lions separated from one another, Hunk’s smacked into Pidge and Lance and Allura’s collided with Shiro’s. Bodies hit the floor and walls of the cockpits, the blade members barely missing the edge of their knives from making a home in their bodies. 

“What the hell was that?” Keith shouted. He groaned as he tried to stand back up, most of the pain residing in his ribs. 

“More like ‘what the hell IS that...” Lance whispered. Keith, not understanding what Lance meant, moved his vision towards the cockpit’s front windows. 

His eyes widened. What once was a vast sky of darkness and twinkling stars was now blocked out by the white vessel lined with a baby blue aura. It looked similar to the Altean castle, but larger and a few modifications to its exterior. Keith couldn’t figure out if it was added rooms or new weaponry the unknown pilots would (most likely) shoot them with. 

“Uh, guys?” Hunk squeaked. “I think that ship is coming for us.”

“What if it’s the Alteans? They will want the lions.” Pidge said, trying in vain to make her lion power up again.

A small part of Allura hoped for it to be Alteans. Good, kind ones resembling those who she knew before she was stuffed in a cryogenic state. She could reason with them. Maybe receive aid in taking down the Galra Empire. But on the other hand, there is a reason Altea did not survive. There was a chance they could have ended up as the Altean Empire reality. It could still happen if these were either the alteans they previously ran into, or new ones weak to corruption.

A white beam from the underbelly of the ship shone down on the team. The lions began to move, but not of their own accord. They floated up towards the light, doors opening for the lions to enter. 

“Great! We are being abducted for a second time in a row and there is nothing we can do!” 

“I’m pretty sure you were the one who abducted us in the blue lion, Lance.” Keith quipped.

Lance’s eye twitched. “Well YOU were the one who led us to the cave with the lion, mullet head.”

“Will you two knuckleheads shut up!” Pidge hollered, still trying to activate her lion. “We are being sucked into an unknown aircraft, think of something!” 

“Pidge, is there anything you can use to hack into the aircraft’s system?” Shiro asked.

“Nothing is working. Not even my laptop. Everything is completely down.”

Hunk let out a groan. “I knew we shouldn’t have trusted Lotor. But did anyone listen? NO.”

“Everyone, stay calm.” Allura interjected. She got up from her seat and moved towards the exit of the cockpit. “Get ready to come out of the lions. Keep your bayards in hand in case of combat. We will see first what we are dealing with. Blade members, hang back. If a compromise turns sour, we will need you to do some sneaking around.” 

“Yes, princess. Blades, follow suit.” Kolivan ordered. Keith moved away from Lance’s chair and activated his mask, keeping his body in the shadows until they have completely entered the aircraft. 

Their vision was overtaken by darkness, a clank being heard as the lions were set on solid ground. Lance moved away from his hair and stood near Keith, bayard ready. 

“Don’t go AWOL and get us all killed.” Lance commented. Lance expected a snide remark from the former red paladin, but all he got was a curt nod, Keith’s mask not so much as facing him. He raised an eyebrow at that. There was something off about Keith. Ever since yesterday he’s been...quiet. Secluded. A phantom residing in the shadows instead of the fiery boy shining brightly in the sun. Lance wished he could read his expression. If not for that mask, maybe he could pinpoint what exactly Keith is feeling. He isn’t one to talk about his problems. Not unless Shiro was here. Yet, Lance didn’t think Shiro could pry an explanation from Keith. Lately there has been extremely visible tension between the two. So much tension Lance wondered if they still consider themselves brothers. 

The mouth of the lion opened. Lance and the other paladins stepped out. It was dark at first, then lights switched on and the group was met by...  
Themselves. 

Standing in the middle of the group was another Allura, identical to their own except her snow white hair was chopped to her shoulders and her armor was black and pink. A staff was in her hand and posture posed for battle, as if they were the Galra Empire themselves.

Shiro stood to her right, his older haircut back and aged crows feet. His armor was the only one resembling the current team’s outfits. His metal arm gleamed, poised for activation.

A slightly older Pidge stood behind him, bayard already emitting electric shocks. She had a scar traveling from the upper half of her lid to her cheek, and her dirty blonde locks in a ponytail. Hunk was the least changed, if not for his bandana missing. He held an air of skepticism that opposed current Hunk’s welcoming aura, open to possible allies. This Hunk looked dangerous.

As for Lance, he was on Allura’s left with Hunk. Stubble pierced through his tan skin, his neck and part of his face ravaged with scars of war, and his blue eyes swimming with preparation for battle.

Coran and Keith were the only ones not present.

Alternate Allura’s eyes widened as she set her eyes on the team. For a moment she just stood there, not knowing what to do.

“Uhh... Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Hunk whispered to Lance. 

“Alternate versions of us that wants to fill us with lead? Yes.”

“Who are you,” the other Allura shouted, shaking away her surprise and lifting her staff, aimed towards the team. “And why do you look like us? “

The team’s Allura, who was awestruck by the discovery, placed up her hands, making sure her bayard was visible. “We mean you no harm. I am Princess Allura of Altea. From another reality.”

Other Allura narrowed her eyes. “Another reality. The last reality transfer device was a prototype developed by the Galra and was destroyed by us. There is no way you could be here. Not unless...”

“Not unless we made one from another reality.” Allura finished. “That is why there is two versions of voltron. Ours and yours.”

The princess stared at her, showing no signs of putting down her weapon. “How do I know you’re not lying? The Galra has made significant advancements in technology and with Haggar and Lotor’s help, they will stop at nothing to take us down.”

Shiro stepped up next to Allura. “Then check our lions. See if they are the real thing. Voltron is not an easy process to copy, or else the Galra would have recreated it and taken you down.”

She eyed him, keeping her weapon up but approached the lions. She laid a hand on the mouth of the blue lion, closing her eyes to see if she could sense any discrepancies. 

When she opened them, the hardness disappeared from her features and were replaced with fascination. 

“You...really must be from another reality. The lions...they are real. Made of the same components as ours and the age rounding up to the same amount of years.” She hummed, tapping her chin as she relaxed her weapon. “Strange, though. Their quintessence is unreadable.”

“Yes, well...the invention of the rift was not natural. It lead to over exposure of quintessence and overloaded our lions. We cannot seem to get them back in working condition.” Allura replied worriedly, her hands back at her side. 

The other Shiro, who was busy staring at the others, deactivated his arm and looked towards his Allura. “Princess, are they no threat?”

“Hm? Debatable, but at the moment they are as threatening as the Arusians.” She said with a smile. “Lay down your weapons. It is safe.”

The alternate team let out a sigh of relief. Their dangerous aura dissipated into welcomeness and smiles. 

“Man, I thought we had a challenge on our hands.” alternate Lance said, stretching his arms as if his sniper weighed a thousand pounds. 

“Pfft, you just want a reason to show off.” Alternate Pidge replied with a devious grin. “Bet you five dollars you would have got your ass handed to you.”

“UM, I’m sorry, who took down five Galra soldiers in one sitting and saved you from being blasted into kingdom com?”

“You took down 3, and last time I checked Hunk was the one who saved me.”

“Oh COME ON.” He threw up his arms. “It was five and you know it, you little gremlin.”

“Oh yeah?” She pointed her electric bayard at him. “What’s your source? Hunk doesn’t count.”

“What do you mean he doesn’t count? HE WAS THERE.”

“Because the moment you use your puppy eyes on him he folds and does whatever you tell him to do.” She poked his stomach with her bayard for emphasis. Alternate Lance was offended, a hand to his chest as if he had been hurt. Hunk rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly. 

The original team, however, was taking a moment to process the whole ordeal.

“Okay, wait. Stop.” Lance said. “That’s ME? In the FLESH? What happened to my face?”

Alternate Lance stopped. His expression contorted into pain before it was overshadowed by indifference. 

“Fight with Lotor. It was a while ago. A swordsman and a sniper is not a good mix.”

Lance frowned, a desire to ask what compelled him to fight the Galra prince. Lance is a fighter, that is a known fact. But he makes tactical decisions on the battle field, and if he is at a severe disadvantage against a guy who has had 100+ years of combat training he knows when to run. This Lance--this version of himself--is a stranger. 

As Lance thought about this, Hunk whispered to Allura. She quickly turned to the lions. “Kolivan, you and your members are safe to come out.”

“Kolivan?” Alternate Allura questioned.

“Yes. We brought some members of the Blade in case we entered a dangerous reality.”

“Yeah, after fighting evil Alteans, it’s good to have backup.” Pidge added.

Alternate Allura, not expecting this bout of information, whipped her gaze towards Allura. “Evil Alteans? You mean there are more out there?”

Allura’s eyes turned sad. “Unfortunately they aren’t the ones we once knew. I take your reality lost them as well.”

“10,000 years ago. Coran and I are the only survivors.”

“I see.” She looked down. “So even in this reality we are the only remnants of a lost civilization.” Allura whispered. Alternate Allura put a hand on her shoulder, sympathy for the trauma the two shared. 

“Come. Coran is in the control room. We shall talk more there.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first thing Coran tried to do when he set his eyes on the new visitors is karate chop them. Granted Coran was left in the dark out of fear they were a highly threatening force of evil, but that did not stop him from trying to wreak a (poorly done) attack on the newcomers. That is until he saw Allura, to which he was struck dumb for a good five minutes. The Blade members were with them, as well as an alternate Kolivan, who had come to deliver some news on a recent mission. He was not surprised, however he did stare down the shortest Blade member, coming up with his own conclusion but not really saying anything. He is not one to bring hope where there is potential to being wrong. To being heartbroken. He wished from the bottom of his heart he was right. The loss of what they had left the crew in shambles. 

Matt was also there. He was with Coran, though he did advocate for the inclusion of him and his ass kicking skills. He was happy to see the two Pidge’s walk in, engulfing them in a big hug and claiming he now has twin badass sisters. As he did, he lifted his gaze to the Blade members. Like Kolivan he noticed the shortest one, coming to his own conclusions. He knew better than to spout out theories. It took some willpower to not reach over and rip off the mask to see if his theory is true. If the member doesn’t take off his mask in the time they meet, he will figure it out on his own. He will never forget the agonized wail he heard tear from his sister’s throat a year ago.

After they settled themselves in the control room, they went straight to business. The two Allura’s discussed the problems with the inactive lions, stating it may take some time to fix rather than an immediate solution. The most it will take is a quintant, a good amount of time before the portal to their reality closed. 

Throughout the discussion, Hunk watched how the alternate Allura acted, especially around the alternate Kolivan. The Galra rebel did not speak much. He kept to himself, only speaking when asked a question for confirmation. Hunk found it strange. His reality’s Allura and Kolivan weren’t close, however they were on friendlier terms, Allura sometimes tensing up at Kolivan standing next to her. But she would go back to her laxed state, occasionally smile at him when the Blade’s missions were successful with no casualties. Or a sympathetic pat on the arm and the offering of refuge after a tough, mournful mission.

This Allura was a different story. She deliberately stayed a foot or two away, never truly making eye contact. When she had to, it was filled with an icy scrutiny; an odd feature to cloud her normally kind gaze. She was curt and to the point. If past missions were brought up she would turn her head away. As if hearing the information, let alone looking at him, brought her physical pain. 

Hunk looked at the others to see if they noticed. They gave no sign of taking note of the tension between the two as he did, and as he was about to ask what the deal was, he noticed another anomaly:

An alternate Keith was nowhere to be seen. Neither of the blade members from the alternate reality resembled Keith’s short stature. If Allura and Shiro in this reality is still a paladin, then shouldn’t Keith still be in the Blade of Marmora?

“Uh, I have a question.” Hunk said, still searching the room. “Where is Keith? Your Keith, that is.”

“Yeah,” lance joined. “Where is tall, dark, and grouchy? He isn’t one to miss out on big events.”

The entire room went silent. Alternate Allura opened and closed her mouth, words struggling to come out. She turned her head away, a fist to her chest and eyes clenched shut. The entire team looked away, Shiro being the only one to stand up and set a hand on Allura’s shoulder, urging her to sit down, as did Coran. To the corner of the Alternate group, Hunk grasped Lance’s hand, knowing full well how the repeat of what happened will affect him. 

Shiro looked towards the team forlornly, taking a deep breathe before he spoke. In the distance, Keith tensed, not needing an explanation as to what gauged their broken reactions. He edged towards Kolivan, wishing to hide behind the tall Galra. 

“Keith...Isn’t with us anymore.” 

“What...What do you mean...?” Lance asked with a wobbly smile. “Keith’s always around. Did he go on some half-galra vacation?” 

He knew why they were turned away. He knew those looks. They mirrored the his family back on earth when a family member died. But Lance did not want to believe it so soon. There is a chance he is wrong. Maybe they are upset over him leaving the team permanently? Keith always got himself in sticky situations, but he always, always managed to pull through.  
Right?

Shiro, knowing full well his own reality’s Lance, just gave him a forced smile. If you could call it that. 

“I wish. He...” Shiro gripped the table. “He...”

“He gave his life for the survival of voltron.” Allura interjected, so soft the team was lucky they didn’t have to ask again amidst the silence. 

“Wh...What...?” Lance breathed. He felt like he just got punched in the gut. That couldn’t be. Keith wanted to find his family. Or at least, search to see if his family was still around. He couldn’t be dead. Not in this reality. Not in ANY reality, it wasn’t right. Keith--HIS keith--is a fighter, his rival, the best pilot in the goddamn garrison. Lance hoped this was some cruel joke and that Keith would emerge from the doors, a cocky smirk on his face and claim how Lance is too gullible.

The team was equally as shocked. Their eyes were blown open, Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge at a loss for words. Allura had a hand over her mouth, horror overtaking as they explained. 

“During the battle of Naxzela, we were trying to escape a bomb built into the planet.” Alternate Allura continued. “Haggar was controlling it from a ship, using her dark altean magic with the druids. A shield was up. The rebels couldn’t take it down with their weaponry. Not until...” She took a deep breath. “Not until Keith used his aircraft as...a weapon. He crashed. The shield went down. But...” She sniffed, pulling out a blade from her side pocket. The hilt was the same as the marmora blades, except decorated a black and red color. She gingerly set it before them on the table, her eyes remaining on the piece of silver. She sniffed another time, then waved her short hair away and wiped her eyes. The professionalism was back, but the sadness remained based on how she kept her eyes on the blade.

“But we...couldn’t save him. By the time we realized it was already too late.”

“Is there a body?” Lance asked, breathless.

Alternate Pidge looked at him sadly. “Due to the high amount of heat from the explosion and with his...” She paused, carefully picking out words. “Remains scattered about, we could only gather a few. Most were burnt; fragile. Plus the knife he always carried around.”

Hunk covered his mouth, his face turning a shade of green. 

“But taking down a shield that powerful against weapons with a measly aircraft shouldn’t have been possible.” The original pidge argued. “The probability of it working it extremely against the odds.”

“Pidge...” Alternate Matt said from behind Alternate Pidge with a gentle tone. “That may be true in your reality. But in this one...Not so much.”

“What about Lotor? In our reality he came in and destroyed the shield. Right before--” Pidge stopped, realization hitting her. She turned towards the shortest bladeling, who was slightly hidden by Kolivan’s form. “Before you were going to crash...”

“What!?” The original paladins exclaimed. They all veered their attention to the same blade member Pidge was staring at. Matt, alarmed, turned to the figure. The alternate paladins though, were confused, moving between the blades and the paladins several times.

“Want to explain, Keith?” Matt said.

“Keith?!” Alternate Lance and Shiro shouted. Keith, accepting the fact he cannot run away (and beat the shit out of Matt the snitch), unveiled his face. He nervously looked around, several pairs of large eyes on his form. 

“Uh...I...” Keith didn’t know what to say. He was overwhelmed with anxiety, not sure how the alternate versions of the team will take him in.

Before he could get anymore words out, cries erupted from the group. In a blink of an eye he was smothered in several arms and torsos, metal armor clinking against his. The air was almost knocked out of him. Like the time he announced he was leaving voltron, he was surrounded by his friends, except this time their crying was out of relief, rather than the farwell and promise to see each other again. Alternate Lance and Shiro were the one closest to him, Lance’s arms wrapped around his waist in a death grip. Shiro was a little more careful, what with his arms circling his neck. The others found ways of squeezing themselves in, as if they miss their chance to touch him, he will fade away into nothingness. 

What surprised Keith the most was the amount of tears being shed. Shiro, the leader of voltron, the Garrison’s top expert pilots, and most level-headed of all the paladins, had buried his head in the crook of Keith’s shoulder. Lance, the goofball sharpshooter with a knack for irritating Keith, but makes his heart swell with affection, was shaking as he hugged him, not completely breaking down but silently let tears drench his cheeks. Pidge, the intellectual introvert with no skill in human connections, copied Lance’s hug, but squeezed her small hands in his suit, latching herself to him in case he were to try and run. Hunk, the most open with his feelings, was not wailing at the top of his lungs. He had his eyes shut tight as he cried, no sound coming out but shaking like a leaf. Allura, the one he least expected to mourn him due to his Galra heritage, had shimmied herself past Lance and Shiro and engulfed him in a hug, one hand resting on the back of his head as the other settled on his back. She muttered under her breath her thanks to the heavens for a second chance.

He raised his arms to reciprocate the gesture, closing his eyes. He isn’t used to hugs. He has never been one to initiate affection. But how warm it felt to be looked upon with happiness rather than the sharp rejection he confronted months prior with his real team. The last hug he had was of goodbye. This one was of “welcome home”. But to see them like this. To see the damage he could have caused by doing what he thought was right...A pang went through his chest. 

“Not a good idea to run into shield, huh?” Matt deadpanned. Keith ignored the traitor.

“It’s nice to see you again, Keith.” alternate shiro said as they slowly pulled themselves apart. It took ten minutes for them to let him go, and even now they still remain close by. Keith just nodded, not sure what to say.

The ginger altean nodded in agreement. “Yes. The training room is not as noisy as it used to be.”

“It has been awhile since we had a broken robot.” alternate Lance joked. Despite the grin, Keith saw a hidden mourning behind his facade. After all, technically he wasn’t his Keith.

Their real Keith is dead. 

And the real team was never meant to find out. 

“Keith. You...Weren’t even going to say goodbye?” Lance asked quietly, catching Keith’s attention. He blinked.

“What?”

“The battle of Naxzela. If what they say is true, then...why didn’t we hear anything from you?” Lance remembered the panic in Matt’s voice. He remembered the silence in between, the ambiguous statement he left in the air for the team to figure out for themselves if Lotor never showed up. Though Lance could not decipher what caused it at the time, he remembered the high stress fluctuating in the bond with Red. 

“Yes, Keith. Why?” Allura ask, equally taken aback as realization settled in. The entire team stared at him, hoping he had a logical explanation. Like his mic cut out. Or his statement was lost in transmission. 

He let out a sigh. “I wasn’t really thinking. I was mostly focused on saving you guys. On saving the galaxy.” 

“So saving the universe is more important than saying a small goodbye to your family?” Lance shot back. He didn’t want to be angry. But the fact he didn’t think about them--think about HIM--boiled his blood in frustration.

“I was only trying to do what was right! We were on a time crunch, Lance. I didn’t have time for sentimentals.” 

“Oh so that is what we are now? Just a thought? A sentiment? Quiznack you, Keith.”

“I don’t think you’re using that word correctly.” He said with venom. 

“Lance, stop it.” Shiro intervened. “It’s been a long day. Now is not the time to fight.”

Lance grumbled to himself and turned away.

Shiro turned back to Keith with a sad, but proud smile. “Keith, I’m glad you’re okay. You did nothing wrong, you were just trying to fix the mission.” He gave Keith’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Well, today has been eventful.” alternate Allura piped up. “Everyone, please follow me. I will show you to the dining hall and your rooms. Shiro, Allura, we can go over ways of getting you back to your reality soon after.”

Alternate Allura led the group out of the control room. Little did they know, alternate Shiro was keeping an eye on them, staring at the back of original Shiro’s dark, unshaved head. When his princess called for him he said he would be there in a moment, explaining he had to think.

Something wasn’t right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmm what is alternate shiro suspicious about? HMMMMMM???????
> 
> Summary of next chapter: alternate Lance and Keith talk. Group bonding. Mysteries to be unfolded.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! Stay tune for next weekend!


	3. Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Shiro and Keith have a discussion, and Alternate Lance takes it in his hands to prevent his other self from being an idiot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I lied. Klance doesn't really come in until the next chapter bUT IM TRYING IM SO SORRY
> 
> Also I apologize for the late update. School has been kicking my ass so fucking hard you have no idea
> 
> ENJOY NERDS!

After being invited to dinner and shown to their rooms, the paladins were allowed to rest up for the evening. The two Allura’s took up the job figuring out how to reboot the lions before their time gap is over. They still had to collect the quintessence Lotor requested as part of their deal. If not, Allura is not sure what would happen if they came back empty handed.

Besides the situation of being stuck in an alternate reality, the original team was also processing a timeline they narrowly avoided. For the entirety of dinner the team was quiet, not sure what to say as the information processed. Lance was the most affected, playing with his food and feeding it to the alternate mice every now and then (despite Alternate Allura’s scolding). He couldn’t look at anyone, not even Keith despite his attempt to get the previous blue paladin’s attention. He would glance at him every now and then, see if he had lifted himself from his morose attitude. Judging how he couldn’t eat the entirety of Hunk’s cooking and not flirting with either of the Allura’s, Keith and the team determined he needs a little more time. 

Alternate Lance, on the other hand, looked like he wanted to sock his other self. Whenever Keith looked in his Lance’s way, alternate Lance would kick the table in his direction. When that didn’t work, he (not so secretly) flicked pieces of goo at his head. Such action only prompted a bored Lance to push the substance away, still not wavering from his mood. If the situation was in a comic, you would see a vein pop out of alternate Lance’s forehead.

The rest of the alternate team though, kept talking to Keith. Pidge informed him of all the new hacking information she found on the galra ships, excitedly describing the time she unleashed a swarm of hacked rovers against a group of top galra generals. Hunk told him of the Balmera being almost fully healed by now, and how Shay’s people have flourished since their freedom from the Galra empire. Coran even participated in some of the conversation, proudly stating he aided the expansion of the voltron coalition significantly. They beheld four times as much planets than a year earlier. All while Shiro, Lance, and Allura smiled fondly at the scene, not needing to say anything. 

Matt too smiled, but it was more sad. He knew how happy his sister and her team were. He is not sure if he is ready to see that bright smile leave her face by tomorrow.

Afterall, this Keith wasn’t theirs to keep.

Alternate Shiro showed Keith his room that night. 

“This was our Keith’s old room.” He said as he input the code. The doors swooshed open to a clean bedroom, the blue lights illuminating his bed to the left and dark blankets void of any signs of human contact.

“It hasn’t been used for a year and a half. It had been...Been hard coming in here.”

“Yeah...” Keith avoided his eyes. It was the exact replica of his room back home: tidy and empty of any signs of a person. At the corner of his vision he noticed something bright, and when he walked over to it, he realized it was his red jacket.

“You can put those on, if you’d like. They are yours.”

“I guess.” He turned back to him. “Did Kolivan send these to you?”

Shiro shook his head. “No. You left them here. It was almost as if you--well, other you--needed something to come back to.”

Keith swallowed. “Shiro, I--”

He was silenced by Shiro hugging him again. 

“I’m sorry,” He mumbled near Keith’s ear. “It’s just been so long. We hadn’t seen you for over a year. The last time I saw you, it was over a tiny screen.”

“I’m sorry. This...I never wanted this to happen.” He whispered. 

“I know.” Shiro pulled back, somber. “I just wish I acted sooner.”

Keith frowned, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

He avoided Keith’s eyes as he spoke. “When the battle of Naxzela happened, Lance told me we had to leave. I agreed, but I had to think it over for a minute. I was at a crossroads between exploring the planet or not. We got sucked into the bomb’s gravitational pull. By the time Allura used her powers to get us out, Haggar had already sped up the bomb detonation time with the help of Zarkon’s son.”

“Lotor.”

“Yes. When you--he--decided on what to do, we heard Matt’s distress. I should have known...Should have caught on sooner. I heard the desperation in Matt’s voice, yet it didn’t dawn on me until it was too late.” He folds his arms, as if he could shield himself from the sting of the past. “I wasn’t there for you in the end at the garrison. I wasn’t there for you when you joined the blade. And I wasn’t there when you...”

“We made our choice. If I am the same here I didn’t blame you. I don’t. The universe comes first--”

“That isn’t what we stand for, Keith!” Shiro snaps. Keith straightened, instantly taking the stance of a soldier. Ready to be given orders, ready to be sent into the battlefield. Shiro wa flooded with regret, his stomach twisting at the sight. He knew Keith had a habit of tensing up around him. But never this obvious. He was a fighter; a rebel when the situation called for it. To see another reality’s Keith so similar, yet so different, sent a wave of unease. 

Shiro took a breath, lowering his voice to a warm but stern tone. “We are about saving lives. Helping others, freeing them from a toxic environment and promoting a sense of safety and free expression. We stand for hope. We are not about sacrificing team members if it isn’t necessary.”

“But it was necessary! You all were going to be killed. Without voltron, the universe is back in the Galra’s hands. They are back to square one, but this time with no hope.”

“We may have been the reality where it was a needed sacrifice. But you heard your Pidge.” He started quietly. “The probability of an aircraft, let alone a damaged aircraft, taking down a powerful shield is severely low. If you did what our Keith did, it would have done nothing.”

“At least doing something is better than standing around while hearing you panic!” He shouts, his shoulders hunched down and hands balled into fists. He hates this conversation. He hates seeing the pain carved before him, various degrees of color haunted by the past. As if he didn’t disappoint his previous teammates enough. He thought walking in on an angry team after a close call of a mission with the Blade was bad, their unwelcoming fury burning holes in every inch of his body. He would have rather been shot by a sentry or pummelled to a pulp by Zarkon himself rather than enter the control room so long ago.

But no, he stumbled upon a much worse scenario. Him leaving wont fix it. Him rejecting them before they reject him wont scrub away the aftermath of what he left behind. 

It was suffocating. Everything he did was wrong. Being a paladin, a blade member, a leader, a pilot; Lance was right about him. He was nothing but a hotheaded drop out bound to hurt the people he cared about. 

“Do you know what it was like hearing your despair? Do you know what it was like hearing Lance shakened? To be so close to losing your family a second fucking time? I was useless as a leader, unneeded on the team, I wasn’t about to be worthless for one more moment.”

“Keith...”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the burning sensation in his retinas to dissipate. This was so fucking stupid. “You all have families back home. I...Don’t have anyone waiting for me in that shack.”

“Is that why you did it?”

Keith shrugs, too busy trying to shove down the bubbling emotions making their way to the surface. “A part of it, I guess. I wasn’t lying when I said the fate of the universe comes first.”

“You’ve always been a stubborn mule about what’s right.” Shiro comments with a small smile.

Keith let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you can say that.”

Shiro ruffles his hair fondly. “What is the other Shiro going to do with you?”

“I think you should be more worried about Kolivan. I’m still in the Blade.”

“Right.” Shiro says after a beat, his brows furrowing. “You aren’t a paladin anymore.”

“Red is in capable hands. Lance is having fun with her.”

It’s not Lance I’m worried about.” Shiro says, looking down in thought and a hand to his chin. “I need you to answer a question for me. When your Shiro returned, did the black lion reject him initially?” 

Keith raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I piloted a little longer after he returned. It wasn’t until I was on a Blade mission that he was able to use it again.”

“I see.” 

“Is there something wrong?”

“I am not sure.” He says, staring at the floor as if it would manifest the solution to his problem. “To be honest, your Shiro seems...off. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“We are from another reality, we aren’t the same as yours.”  
“Yes, but you are identical to our Keith.” His gaze flickered up to meet Keith’s. “There is something I need to tell you about this reality. I’m afraid it may apply to yours.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
As soon as Lance was shown to his room he ripped off his armor, chucking it to the side of the room to get rid of the shakes coursing through his body. Keith’s indifference to the whole ordeal. The alternate team’s reaction to seeing him. Finding out his solution to saving voltron was kamikaze himself and leave them all to guess why.

It was all too much.

He knows Keith is all about the mission. He follows what is best rather than what is morally right. He is distant, hot headed, quiet, and loyal to a fault. And yeah, Lance teased him and loves to make fun of his mullet. Here he was, walking in being good at everything he touched, so of course Lance had to at least jab at his poor hair care and fashion sense.

But doesn’t he know Lance, as well as everyone else, cares about him?

The two didn’t get along in the beginning. Lance admits it could have been due to him egging him on at first, always gaining his attention by making a demeaning joke. But he never actually meant true harm. He would never in his life wish Keith to be...Permanently gone. And believe it or not, when Keith left the team, Lance was heartbroken. The two had finally got to being what Hunk would define as “friends”, allowing Lance to see how underneath all that stoic exterior was just a boy who wanted to be accepted. The moment Keith came to Lance and showed his vulnerability about Lance being right and splitting up the team, to see how genuinely remorseful and sad he was, showed Lance that the elite, arrogant garrison student he manifested in his head was no more than an illusion. A false interpretation to an in depth individual. Lance would even say he liked him more than just a friend.

Yet here he was, being a selfish asshole all over again, trying to leave the team all over again. 

And to be quite honest, Lance was also pissed at Shiro. If he fucking LISTENED to him on the beginning, Keith wouldn’t have done the stupid stunt in the first place. If he for one moment took Lance seriously as the new red paladin, as the right hand man, then they wouldn’t have been freaking out over the comms to Matt, Coran, and Keith. But no, ever since he returned, with or without Keith, he has been an arrogant jerk who’s going to get one of them killed. Lance wanted to take hold of Shiro’s unmarked neck and cover it with angry, blue and purple fingerprints.

As Lance made his way to the bed, a knock sounded from the door. 

He huffed, not in the mood to deal with Shiro or Hunk. He wanted to be alone and gripe.

“Hunk, that better be you with a hug and not a concerned talk in mind.” He says as he approached the door. He pressed the button to let the in.

It was neither Hunk or Shiro. Instead he was greeted by the likes of his other self, tall lankiness and all. Lance blinked, not used to seeing himself in the flesh rather than a mirror.

“Well this is weird.”

“You’re telling me.” Alternate Lance agrees, scratching his head nervously and giving a goofy grin. “Mind if I come in, other me?”

“Sure, so long as you don’t murder me and plan to take my place in the other reality.”

“Pretty sure with me having stubble and more scars they would notice the switch.”

“So you WERE considering it!” Lance gasps, scooting away from his other, maybe evil self. Alternate Lance chuckled.

“Nice to see I haven’t lost my charm.” He sat on the bed and motioned for Lance to sit. 

“So...Why did you stop by?”

“To talk about Keith.”

Lance flopped backwards and shoved a pillow on his face. “I don’t want to talk about him. He pissed me off.”

Alternate Lance sighs and yanks the pillow off his counterpart. “This is serious, Lance. I know you’re upset. I am too, but this is bigger than you think.”

Lance didn’t say anything. He stared up at the ceiling, arms folded on his chest. 

Alternate Lance began to speak. “Are you more upset at him, or at yourself?”

“Him. It’s always him. He is just so...infuriating!”

“Is that really it?” Alternate Lance looked down at him, eyebrows raised. The previous blue paladin sighed, knowing himself well enough to know they won’t leave him alone. 

He sat up, morose. “I just...Don’t understand how he could so easily put himself on the line like that. I get we were in trouble. But we are a team. We are meant to work things out together.”

“I know. I felt the same way. But picking a fight with him will not make the situation any better. And it definitely won’t make him want to open up to you.” 

“Then what do I do? Stand at the sidelines? Root for him to go get himself killed? Turn a blind eye and smile as if I don’t know what could happen?” Lance spoke fast, growing more panicked. “I can’t do that! He’s--He’s important to me, to all of us.” He stops, his eyes turning to slits as he stared at his hands. “Doesn’t he know he is family to us?”

Alternate Lance took a moment to answer, a silence washing over the two hurt boys. 

“I don’t think so..” He whispers slowly, refusing to look his other self in the eye. “When we lost Keith, we didn’t know why he didn’t say goodbye either. We blamed the Blade, believing their logic over one life for a million other lives were what drove Keith to the shield. Allura still blames them, though I can’t say she is at fault. We blamed Zarkon for sparking a war neither of us, including Allura and Coran, should have fought. We even blamed ourselves, thinking we should have stopped him from going to the Blade. We were lost for so long. It felt as if a piece of the world suddenly stopped existing and we had to figure out how to move around the void.” Alternate Lance took the blade at his side, brushing the red hilt with his thumb.

“In the end, we came to the conclusion his silence meant more than just saving the universe. I don’t know if it is the same for your Keith, but with ours there was always a hidden sadness in his eyes. A guard of isolation, afraid of letting us in, petrified of us walking out. The only one he was close to was Shiro, and even he was still kept at a distance.”

“Did you...Love him? Like, romantic love.” Lance nervously asks. Alternate Lance could tell why he was asking such question, igniting an amused glance, which was quickly overcome by grief. His grip on the knife tightened, almost enough Lance thought he was going to slice his fingers on the blade. 

“I did. I still do. I never got to tell him how I felt. I was too much of a chicken.” He turned back to Lance, the knife forgotten. “Which is why I’m here.”

“W-What?” Lance sputters.

“You see this reality? This is what you could have had. You came so close to having this reality, that if it did I’d be in your place and you would be in mine. You need to tell Keith.”

Lance jumps from where he was laying and runs to the other end of the room. “You’re crazy! I can’t--I can’t tell Keith!”

Alternate Lance leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and skeptical. “Why not? And don’t say you don’t like him the same way I do. I am you, afterall.”

“I come from a different reality, it’s possible I see Keith as a friend.” He reasoned, avoiding his other self’s stare. “Not everything is the same. If Keith is alive with us, that could mean I see him strictly platonic. Why would I choose him over the illustrious Allura?”

Without saying a word, Alternate Lance stood up and approached his counterpart, never diverting his gaze. He smirks and leans forward. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t fall in love with him in the Blade of Marmora suit.”

Lance opens his mouth to protest, but when he thought of no argument to put up, he bent his head down in shame. “...Okay, so I’m not that different from this reality.”

Alternate Lance leans back, proud of himself. “Told you.”

“Shut it.”

Alternate Lance snickers, the devious side of him making Lance regret being born. He knew the expression “No one knows me more than myself”, but this was on a whole different level. 

But Lance wasn’t particularly feeling comical today. Not after all the shit he found out with Keith. Add the fact they were stuck in the worst reality he has encountered, his happy points was at an all time low. 

Alternate Lance, fully aware of his counterparts scattered thoughts, gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. His cocky grin dissipating into a gentle, but remorseful expression.

“Lance, how much do you love him?”

The hard edge of Lance’s jaw relaxed at the question, a breathy sigh escaping his slightly ajared lips. “I...Do I really have to answer that? You already know how much.”

“Then answer me this: if he were to go on another Blade mission, if he went missing, if the Galra got ahold of him and killed him, would you be content not giving him a gift he has been looking for? Would you be alright with the immortal question ‘what if’?”

“...I don’t think so.” he says quietly. Lance is adaptable to many settings; the sudden thrust into an alien war. The heavy responsibility of being a paladin. The undesired insert of being deemed a goofball by Pidge and Hunk. He was the water paladin for awhile, and water is known to adapt to different variations of existing, whether it is being a fully body of water or burning up into gas. He can take on all forms.

The possibility of losing the paladins, including Keith, is one of the very few scenarios he would not fully recover from. Especially not after finding out how close he was to a dark future, and how said dark future exists in another bleak reality. His other self is suffering. Would he want to endure the same burden he beholds?

“I was hurt. I thought the conversation we had about Shiro coming back and the lack of lions brought us together, in a sense. He was...Kind. He didn’t laugh at my insecurity, he didn’t roll his eyes. I could tell he wasn’t good with comforting another person, but he was trying his best. Why else would he tell me to leave the math to Pidge?” Lance pauses, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The confidence he displayed towards other problems are easy for him. It’s himself he struggled with. But I never anticipated it would get this bad. First he rejects the black lion. Next he joins the blade, leaving all of us behind. Now I find out he tried sacrificing himself for a war we didn’t even sign up for. I don’t understand how he could put himself so low on the list of importance in his book. Yeah he can be an idiot and make bad decisions, I mean he wanted to leave Allura behind when she was captured by the Galra. But despite his cold response, he still fought like hell to get her back. And through time, he began to value the person over the mission, like with Thace.”

“Again: are you more angry at him, or at yourself?”

“Huh?”

“You continuously talk about how you don’t understand Keith’s reasoning, but you contradict that with stating you are aware of his internal struggles. Are you more angry at his logic, or are you angry at yourself for not speaking up about it?”

Lance went quiet. He has been contradictory. Here he was, blowing a gasket at Keith, but can Lance wholly say all the responsibility falls on him alone? Keith has always been alone. Now that he thinks about it, he can’t seem to erase the last image of Keith as he left the castle, his small smile dissolving into nothingness, his form entering as a paladin, exiting as a soldier. His humanity left behind. He accepted the part of becoming a blade: expendable, unimportant, another unfortunate addition to the fallen.

“I was angry at myself too.” He says nonchalantly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wished I noticed sooner. Talk to him more. Maybe worked harder at keeping him on the team.”

“And?”

He motions to his neck and one half of his face. “I got in a fight with Lotor.”

Lance swore he could feel his brain implode. “Wait, wait, wait, what do you mean you got in a fight with Lotor? How does this pertain to the Keith issue?”

Alternate Lance sucked air between his teeth, closing his eyes as if preparing for a blow to his chest. “Soon after we lost Keith, we had a lead on Lotor. We all went on a mission to find him. Shiro and I ended up confronting him, and with the sting of keith’s death still fresh, I was overcome by vengeance.”

Lance gave him a weary glance. “I thought I wasn’t an angry person.”

“You just got mad at Keith for not saying anything.”

“That is DIFFERENT. “ He exclaims, throwing his hands up. “I cannot believe I am arguing with myself about this.”

“You also thought you were straight.”

“HEY. Same to you buddy, we both aren’t that different, besides you having cool scars.” 

“Hell yeah I look good with these scars. Nothing stands in the way of this handsomeness.” Alternate Lance flips his hair (or lack of), giving Lance a momentary reflection of how Allura must feel with his boastful nature. It’s no wonder Pidge had a hacked sentry punch him.

The two diverted back to their previous conversation, all joking aside.

“Anyway. When we encountered Lotor, we were instantly ready for a fight. Princess Allura wanted us to capture him and bring him back to the ship in order to find out more information on Zarkon’s witch. We knew Lotor is an excellent fighter, known to battle against his own kind and win despite being part galra. We were about ready to take him in. Until he mentioned Keith.”

He stops to walk back to the bed, his long body collapsing on the mattress as he released a weight he has kept shackled to him by memory and physical disfigurement. Lance followed suit.

“He mocked us. Stated how the galra empire will take down voltron like they took down our friend. Like they took Shiro’s arm. The words shocked us, allowing Lotor an opening to get away. I refused to see Keith’s murderer get away, so as I chased him down and ignored Shiro’s cries for a retreat, I realized I didn’t care what would happen to me. It wasn’t until Lotor had the upper hand and a sword to my heart that whatever I do, it will not bring Keith back. It wouldn’t make him proud for me to act insane amidst battle and put the entirety of Voltron on the line. His sacrifice would have been in vain. There I was, acting like an idiot because I wanted to make up for the past, when I’m 99% sure Keith’s force ghost would be screaming at me to stop.”

“So you gave up on taking down Lotor.”

“Mmm, kind of. I still wanted to get the mission done, but that’s when Shiro showed up and dumb ass. In the end he slipped between our fingers. No one lost their lives, at least.”

“So...what exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Alternate Lance starts, a knowing look in his eyes. “Not everything goes according to plan. People are saved. Teammates lost. Shit happens. We have to keep trudging on and remember what the fallen was all about. “ A ghost of a smile flickers onto Alternate Lance. He hummed, thinking.

“Keith is gone. We can’t change such fact. We have to accept he was both hurt emotionally and fighting a high cost battle. Yes we didn’t realize sooner, but it isn’t our fault, nor his or the Blades. Bad things happen to good people. Or species, in this case.” He nudges Lance’s shoulder with his own. “Your reality could be different. Take risks, even if it can end in heartbreak. Because it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never have loved at all.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Do you know how absolutely cheesy that is?”

“Okay. How about this: You still have Keith, whether it is for another day, week, month, year, so on and so forth. Don’t take him for granted, and don’t hesitate on telling him your feelings. Because I’m living the reality you were moments away from.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Keith woke up with a start, covered in a light sheen of sweat and gasping for air. The nightmare he had disappeared into the ether, lingering in the back of his mind as he blinked away the sleep from his deprived eyes. These nightmares were getting worse and worse. 

He sat up and reached for the cup of water he placed on the floor before he went to bed. Still full of grogginess (and slightly shaky), he tipped over the glass a little too far, spilling liquid all over the floor. As if earlier wasn’t bad enough, now his night is shitting on him. He was hoping he could shove the information Alternate Shiro told him to the side, but seeing a his brain would not shut off for the time being, he settled to blowing off some steam.

With a grunt, he got up and retrieved his Blade of Marmora knife. He was first to get some water, since his throat felt more coarse than the Sahara Desert. Then he’d head down to the training room and fight for awhile, force his muscles into overtime so they can relax later. It was late in the night, but since the training room had a built in soundproof system, he figured he could turn that on and not wake anyone up with his racket. 

When he opened the door to his room, a figure was already standing in front of him, blocking his way to sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who do you think is at the door? :O
> 
> Please comment/leave a Kudos! It really helps motivate me to write!
> 
> And if you'd like to talk to me, check out my tumblr @ Stardust-and-blades


	4. What Could Have Been, But Never Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets a visitor and learns a few things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my FUCKING GOD this chapter took FOREVER and I HOPE YOU LOVE IT BECAUSE IM DEAD GUYS. DEAD. DECEASED. IN THE DAMN AFTERLIFE. HOLY HELL.
> 
> Let me just tell you that this did not take long because of plot. This took long bc I was trying to be hella in character and still maintain good writing without a beta reader.  
> Enjoy *dies*

Keith thanked whatever deity exists for him not having a heart attack and immediately impale the person with his marmora blade. Keith thought his teammates would be more aware of his guard, especially in terms of them being in a foreign universe with the same enemy lurking. But no. In the middle of the night alternate Lance had to crouch in the doorway. As if Keith wasn’t already on edge from the conversation he had with alternate Shiro. 

“Jesus christ, Lance. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry, Mullet. Not used to knocking these days.” He gave an apologetic smile. 

Keith’s annoyance evaporates. Right, he was gone. Not only did he die, but right before he stopped living at the castle. He left only with the clothes he left Earth with, never truly altering the room to fit his personality and make it his home. He didn’t see the point in getting comfortable--he figured it wouldn’t be long when he was on the move again. Wandering. Finding a place in the world that most likely would never accept him as one of its own. The same was at the blade: empty room, large space, and dark lights brother to the depths of his mind he dares not touch.  
In this reality he was still alone.

Seeming to sense Keith’s drop in mood, alternate Lance cleared his throat. “Mind of I come in?” 

Keith moves to the side. “Sure, I wasn’t getting sleep anyway.”

“Oh, nightmare?”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “No. Stress, I guess.”

“You want to talk about it?”

Keith walks over to the bed as he spoke, fixing the sheets and wrapping his bare hands back in the gloves he used to wear most of the time in the castle. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. What about you? Something bothering you?”

He was about to sit down until he did a double take. Lance, the boy he came to know as fun loving, a hyper loudmouth, and an unending force of flirting whenever the princess was within his vicinity; the confident sharpshooter of the group adorned with sweet freckles and a smile that shone like warm sunlight on an unforgiving cold day, was shroud in a grimace and somber lashes. He did not look at Keith directly, kneading the side of his arm like a nervous school boy. It is true he is technically not his Lance, but such fact did not stop the panic seizing Keith’s form.

“Lance? What’s wrong?” He made to grab his hand, but stopped, his gloved hands realizing what it would mean in alternate Lance’s view. Switching gears, he carefully touches his arm, not quite sure how to comfort him without stepping out of bounds. 

Lance took one look at the hand on his arm and the dam preventing the growing emotions from tumbling out in a tsunami of tears gave way. He mumbled an “I’m sorry for this,” and envelopes Keith in a tight, bone crushing embrace. 

Keith stills, his heart pounding in his ears as he realizes what exactly just happened. It wasn’t him being disgusted or in the least bit uncomfortable, he just has never been used to physical affection. The time Allura hugged him shook him to the core, not quite knowing how to respond in a normal fashion. The difference between then and now is the fact his actual crush (albeit different) is touching him in a non-antagonizing way. For a good moment Keith thought his head would explode. Keith.exe. Stopped working. 

But as he slowly began to reciprocate the gesture, he felt Lance shaking, his shoulders ever so slightly moving up and down. He heard a small sniff, and Keith knew the sudden coolness biting at his neck was not from a random gust of air. 

“Lance..?” 

He remains quiet, the single sign he let on he heard Keith was him burying his face in the crook of his neck. Coming to the conclusion Lance was not going to explain, he let out a breath and returns the gesture, reaching his hand up to stroke his hair. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” He sooth, his voice strangely soft. So soft you’d have to strain to hear it. 

They just stood there, holding one another for however long Lance needs. Keith did not need Lance to go over the gruesome details to explain why he was in his room hugging him, as if he’d disappear at any moment.

“I know you’re not my Keith,” Lance whispers in Keith’s ear, refusing to pull his head up. “But you’re no different from ours. We miss you. I miss you.”

“I know.”

Keith pulls away and for a moment he thought he hurt Lance somehow, for he let out a pained whine. But Keith kept one of his hands on Lance’s wrist, guiding him to the bathroom gingerly. He grabbed a paper towel from the altean dispenser, switching on the sink’s water and placing the paper underneath. He wrung it out, then stands in front of Lance as he wipes away the growing tears. His blue eyes shown in surprise, blinking at the kind action. 

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? You complain all the time your skin ends up crusty and gross when you cry.”

“Do not.”

“Do to.”

“Do not!”

“Lance, you are the most anal person I have seen in my entire life who is hell bent on clear, smooth skin. You threw the biggest fit when Pidge used your face cream for robot lubricant.”

He sniffs, pouting. “It was expensive.”

“See?” Keith smirks, happy to see he won the argument. He threw the paper towel away. He turns around to a Lance smiling faintly, a tinkling, airy laugh flying in the room. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a crap comforter.” Lance teases, the tenderness never leaving his eyes.

Keith, however, did not care and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, idiot.”

As he passes Lance for the exit he turns his head and motions him to follow. He followed suit, Lance flat tiring Keith’s shoes all the way to the kitchen. He did invade some of Keith’s personal space, but it did not really bother him. It had been a long while since he stood, let alone walked with the former blue paladin. He is the same Lance, albeit more beat up and serious. 

For a moment, Keith wondered how his Lance was doing. The last time he saw him, he had burning rage and tears forming, never quite meeting Keith’s eye in the dining hall or hallways of the castle. Keith tried to get his attention, tried to show his remorse by meeting his eyes, but to no avail did Lance pay mind to him. Why would he? He was forced to look at the version of himself he would have become if Keith had accomplished this reality. He couldn’t blame him. That doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though. Because every time he thinks back to those moments, he shies away with shame. 

“He doesn’t hate you, you know.” Lance said behind him, taking note of Keith’s slightly hunched shoulders.

“Mmm...” Keith hums, not looking at Lance. “Could have fooled me.”

Lance frowns. He quickened his pace to meet Keith’s, which wasn’t that hard for him. His legs are far longer than the dark haired boy. They turn into the kitchen area, Keith rifling through the cabinets for a glass. It took him three tries to find them. Looks like this alternate reality hasn’t steered away from hiding basic kitchenware anymore than frazzled decorative mothers.

“C’mon, me? Hate? The only thing I hate is bad skin and Zarkon. To which he is both.” Lance tried to joke. Keith didn’t crack a smile.

“You hated me. Maybe still do. You made that pretty clear when we left earth.”

Lance hesitated. “I mean...A little. It was mostly jealousy. And my insecurities. Here I was, barely scraping by at the Garrison while everyone around me talked about the cool fighter pilot who unfortunately was booted. Iverson made it clear I was nothing compared to you.”

“Well, Iverson also thought it was a good idea to get in my face.” Keith slams the pantries, clenching his jaw at the mention of the garrison official. 

“He did? Why? Is that why you were booted?”

“Yup. No one was searching for Shiro. Everyone went about their day, accepting him and Pidge’s family to be dead. I wanted answers, but all I got was a lecture on letting go of a lost cause.” He found some glasses, moving to the faucet as he spoke. “So when I demanded for information they were hiding, Iverson told me to man up and accept Shiro is dead. To stop acting like a child. That Shiro got what he deserved for being an idiot.”

Keith hands a glass of water to Lance, who was staring at him in horror.

“What the cheese...”

“I decked him. Can’t say I regret it.” He took his own sip, savoring the cool water travelling down his parched throat. It was quiet for a moment, Lance processing the new information. Keith wondered if he broke him; wondered if he was going to suddenly claim he would have done better harm than Keith. 

A laugh rang out, full and joyous. “Oh my God, that’s why he has one eye.”

Keith grins. “Oh yeah.”

“Didn’t you kick him in the same area when we rescued Shiro?” 

Keith quirks an eyebrow at Lance. “I saved Shiro, you guys tagged along without my permission. And yes, yes I did.”

Lance hops away from the counter. “Um, you needed help??? You couldn’t have saved Shiro without our courageous deed.”

Lance swore he could see those angry vein animations on Keith’s head as he glared at him. “I set off the bombs, took out everyone in the base, and had a working vehicle to escape. You guys just followed me.”

“Yes, but who helped you carry Shiro?”

“I could have carried him by myself.” He argues, cup forgotten and facing Lance head on. Lance just gave him a cocky smirk.

“Nah, you’re a twig. You wouldn’t have succeeded without us.”

“I can lift you AND Shiro at the same time.”

“Impossible, I doubt you can even lift me.” He wiggles his eyebrows in mock doubt.

Keith growled. “You want a bet?”

Lance blinks, slowly realizing what he said. “Wait no--”

Before Lance could run away, Keith had swoop him up bridal style, his long legs hanging over his arms and his head close to Keith’s beating heart. Lance felt his cheeks warm, the smell of soap and dust permeating his senses. 

“Still think I can’t lift Shiro.”

“...You’re using both arms. Doesn’t count.” He wheezes, surprised anything came out at all from the reality of being so close to his friend.

“Oh?” Keith questions, looking down at him. Keith readied himself to face an irritated Lance, but was rather met with a flustered, wide eyed red paladin. His blue eyes shone in wonder, the waves of his irises drowning Keith’s reply and leaving him breathless. 

Then, without so much as a warning, Keith switched Lance onto one arm, his limbs and face downward towards the floor and Keith’s one arm hoisting him by the stomach. He nearly hit Lance’s head on a cabinet.

“What the HELL!”

“You said I couldn’t carry you with both arms.”

“Warn me next time, you--you DEMON.” Lance protests, waving his arms around like a frantic chicken. “Put me down!”

Without a word, Keith releases his grip, dropping Lance onto the ground with a loud thud.

“I hate you.”

“Nah.” He said, grinning down at Lance with arms folded and a superior stance. They stared at each other, and in not a moment of hesitation, they burst out laughing. Keith slid to the floor, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Man, I haven’t laughed like this in awhile.” Lance leans back and closes his eyes, the smile never leaving him.

Keith, however, stopped. He carefully looked at Lance. “What do you mean? You and Hunk must have days like this.”

“No...We don’t. Not anymore.” Lance said, his eyes still closed. “We joke every now and then. We are comfortable around each other. But the team isn’t like it used to be.”

Keith crosses his arms protectively,focusing on the stray lint peeking out from his gloves. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

Lance said nothing. Keith didn’t want to glance over. To see the pain or numb feeling crack across his face. He didn’t want to see the consequence of what his other self left behind, because he knew he couldn’t fix it no matter what he did. If he could wish for one thing from the universe, it would be to erase the hole in the team’s life.

“You need to leave the Blade.”

“That’s not going to happen--”

“Then you’re signing your team up for the exact fate as ours.” Lance coldly interrupts. 

Keith whirls in front of Lance. “I leave the Blade, then what, Lance?” He demands. “I sit around while my team goes out and puts their lives at stake? I stand comfortably behind the walls and barrier of the castle as my friends enter galra headquarters, or fly out into the depths of space? How is that fair to me--how would that be fair to him? I’m sorry you lost me in this reality. I’m sorry I left you all behind, and I’m sorry you are hurting, but this is war. We do not have the luxury to choose to back out or not.” He sat back against the pantry, done with arguing. He was trying to keep a hold on his temper, but regardless of which Lance he talks to they drive his breaking point to the top. He expected Lance to storm out; yell at him, call him selfish. Which he wouldn’t be wrong. They lost someone. They lost him. Keith always thought no matter what, as long as they had each other, everything would be okay. He didn’t consider himself important to the team. He was just a pilot trying to save Shiro. He had no family, a bad temper, and as Pidge put it eons ago, a loner. The lone wolf. 

He cares for them all. Whether he was in the picture or not at all. Lance sought for Allura (big surprise), Hunk and Pidge developed a bond, Matt and Shiro were reunited, and Allura and Coran had each other. He was the anomaly. An outlier in a perfectly formatted scatter plot.

But no matter how much he used his logic, he never anticipated this kind of turnout. To see the flame of a bright flame sputter out quickly, never shining to its full potential again. 

It filled Keith with more guilt. But as he said before, there was no changing the past. There is no changing him. Because as much as he wanted to believe it, he knows the dull ache living inside his chest would increase if he came home. 

Keith was picking at his gloves again when a pair of jeans invaded his vision long fingers wraps around his pale wrists. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Lance said softly, regretful. “You’re just...Not as careful as the rest of us.”

“I take risks and get the job done. It’s part of the Blade.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

Keith glances up sharply, a snappy retort at the tip of his tongue. It died out as he saw the crease of Lance’s eyebrows, biting his lip. 

“Keith...You were brought up an orphan, correct?”

He bristles. “Yes...”

“And Shiro is the closest thing you have to family?”

“Yes,” He frowns. “What is this about?”

“I’m getting there. Answer my last question.”

Keith sighs, banging his head against the pantry and resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.”

The grip on his wrists tighten. “Do you believe yourself to be expendable, and that no one would miss you?”

Keith flew his head forward, smacking Lance in the forehead. The ex-blue paladin hissed from the sudden assault, but did not let go of Keith’s wrists.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks, accusatory. Fiery comets burned behind his purple irises. “I’m not trying to get myself killed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Lance released one arm and rubbed the growing headache, believing it would go away with the gesture as the pain bloomed into a sharp stab. “Okay,convince me otherwise. Enlighten me. Because other me had a good point: you didn’t say goodbye.”

Keith rips his hands away and threw them in the air. He could not believe what he was hearing right now. In the middle of the damn night, of all times. First Shiro, now Lance. Can his night get any worse. “Lance, this isn’t a therapy session. Yes, I’m well aware you guys care, but it doesn’t matter when the galra empire is invading planets and trying to steal the lions.”

Without waiting for an answer, Keith stood up and began to exit the kitchen area, desiring a nice night of rest after being interrogated twice. The conversation can wait until later. He is tired. He was nearly killed, had a grueling argument with Shiro about Lotor, travelled through a reality torn rift, and was emotionally exhausted from several bouts of shocking information. He is done.

“You were a part of our family, Keith!” Lance calls out, facing him now. “In my family, we cherished one another. Even on the bad days. But we let you down.”  
Keith stops in the doorway, but didn’t turn around. Lance stares at the back of his head, the light skinned boy lifting an arm to rub his eyes. “You didn’t let me down, Lance. No one did.”

“Then tell me how you think the team reacted when you died.”

Keith stood in the same place for a moment, debating if it was really worth looking back into those sad eyes again. Slowly he turned his frame, arms crossed and peaking through his long bangs. “...I can’t. I’m not one for sentimentals'. You cry, you mourn, you move on.”

Lance shook his head, meeting Keith’s eyes with his watery ones. “No, Keith. That isn’t what happened at all.” He motions towards a chair. “You can go to bed if you want. But I’d appreciate it if you sat down and listened to me.”

Keith stared at Lance. He knew what he was up to. Keith wanted to tell him no, to state he should let go of the past. What happens, happens. No matter how much they talk, it won't bring his Keith back.

Yet there he was, sitting on a hard surface he was bound to slip off of. Lance across from him, he tentatively heard what has been eating away at the Cuban for over a year.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Woohoo! I thought for sure we were goners.” Lance whooped, thrusting his fist in the air as him and the crew followed behind him. “I knew you had some Jedi mind trick up your sleeve, Allura.”

“That isn’t how the force works, Lance.” Pidge grumbled as she yanked her helmet off.

Allura gave him a kind smile. “I’m flattered, but that wasn’t me. My powers do not extend to far lengths.”

“Must have been Keith.” Shiro joined in, meeting Allura’s pace. “He always comes up with a backup plan.”

Lance groaned. “Oh yeah, give all the credit to Mullet head. I could have done something way cooler than take down a shield.” 

“You’re not fooling anyone, Lance.” Hunk mused, sending a teasing smile Lance’s way. “You liiiiike him.”

Lance sputtered, appalled at such an attack. “Et tu, brute!? I have you know i’m alllll about the ladies.” 

Lance maneuvered his body in front of Allura and bowed, a hand outstretched for her to take. Still not open to Lance’s flirting, she lifted his gloved hand and flicked it away.

“Regardless,” Allura started. “We should thank him in person. It could not have been easy.”

Lance nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He shrugged. He ignored the butterflies in his stomach. It is true they hadn’t seen him for a period of months; what with Keith on blade missions and the crew dealing with the formation of the Voltron coalition. With the addition of Coran’s small breakdown from a parasitic creature, the team hasn’t had time to keep tabs. It could get lonely at times for him, occasionally wandering to the training room for some sniper action. He can’t help, however, peering behind his shoulder to see if a familiar red jacket lurked in the doorway. 

By the time he turned, there was no one there.

The team was entering the control room mid laughs when Coran, Matt, and Kolivan turned to them. The laughter died down, stopping in their tracks as they took in the somber expressions of the trio. Matt could hardly meet Pidge’s eyes.

“What’s going on? Did something happen to the rebellion?” Hunk asks from behind Lance. He scanned their faces, taking in Coran’s downcast view, Matt clenching his fists, and Kolivan’s inability to meet Allura’s concerned frown. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. 

“You might want to sit down for this, everyone.” Coran said, straightening and clearing his throat.

“Coran, what is this about?” Allura asked. She and the team remained standing, too antsy to sit still in the confinement of a chair.

Coran, bubbly, haywire Coran, just walked over to Allura and squeezed her shoulders. “Princess. We lost Keith.”

Allura felt like she was punched in the gut. All she could push out of her shocked system was a weak, Shaky “What?”

The team didn’t understand what Coran said. Lost? Keith? Those two words didn’t make any sense. They didn’t go together, they were oil and water, never to combine and create a disgusting mixture.

Lance opened and closed his mouth, trying to respond to the outrageous assumption. Yes, outrageous, because there was no way in Zarkon’s Hell what Coran choked out was true. It was all a ploy at their emotions. Soon Keith will saunter in, a shit eating grin on his face and exclaiming how the team is too gullible.

Shiro gently but firmly moved Lance and Hunk to the side, now at the front with Allura. He stood in front of Coran, fear written all over his face.

“What do you mean ‘lost’? What happened, Coran? Where is he?”

Before Coran could respond, Matt piped up.

“He...I tried to stop him, Shiro.” He said, his voice cracking. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the memory to disappear. “He wouldn’t listen. He kept accelerating...approaching the shield...He wouldn’t listen.”

“Approaching the...” Shiro didn’t seem to understand at first. As it clicked, all blood drained from his face. “No. No no no no no.” He turned around and ran for his lion.

“Shiro--”

“Get to your lions.” Allura commanded, already at Shiro’s heels. “We are going out there.”

Lance was the last one to his lion. He was slowed by the intense wave of grief engulfing his mind, Red sending out signals of distress through the bond. Lance was working on keeping a cool attitude, convince himself Keith is actually fine and yet again, the team was pulling his leg. 

But how could he deny the reality of the situation when the red lion was sending out cries of agony? And as they flew to the scene of the crash, the galra ship already lightyears away, the strain on the bond grew as they searched the area.

They flew all across the stars, diving in and out of crash fields. It was difficult making out Keith’s, since he was in a galra vessel rather than a allied ship. The darkness was decorated with broken wings and burnt pilot chairs, some containing a whole skeletal carcass if not covered in the ash of their victims. 

They kept calling for his name, despite knowing his comms would not work. But still, they screamed his name, as if he could hear them through the distance and hard blockage of the lions. Shiro, frantic for a response or a violet suit to appear. Pidge, scanning her lion for any traces of human life. Allura, reaching out with her Altean energy to see if there is a living presence, whether faint or strong, within the vicinity. Hunk, barrelling through mass destruction, his fear of flying or death forgotten. All while this is happening, Lance’s bad feeling went from a lemon sized fear to full blown panic, matching up to Red’s worry.

Tears pricked his eyelids. Where was he? He had to be here somewhere. He had to be kicking in this godforsaken graveyard. He still had to show Keith his new move with his sniper. Had to show him up in front of Allura, to pull him aside and play the video game him and Pidge manufactured to work in a weird altean system. He was going to wrap his arms around that purple-clad torso and lift him in the air just to demonstrate his strength and twirl him around. 

Lance almost missed the glint of silver as he passed the front part of a galra cruiser. Its pointy front was shattered, the window confetti around the misshapen vessel, the dark grey and crimson wings ripped off in a contorted mass of metal, a few areas still hot from the explosion. The pilot space was in two, the insides fried and the dashboard covered in blood. There, on the cooling, disfigured seat, was a Blade of Marmora knife.

“Guys...I think I found his cruiser...” Lance said, a whisper in the wind if there was any.

Without a second to waste, he exited Reds hangar and floated to the remains of the cruiser, picking up the blade. It was scorched at the sides, the cloth veiling the Blade symbol no longer present. Yet it was still in sturdy condition.

He focused his attention on the dashboard next and wished he hadn’t. Keith must have hit his head really hard, due to the sheer abundance of blood splattered on the controls. Lance glided his hand atop the controls, the blood dry and cracking off with just a sweep of his fingers.And as he took in the scene, the black and yellow lions arrived, as well as the realness of the situation.

Keith wasn’t coming home.

Keith really isn’t here.

This realization unfortunately made its way to the red lion, and when it did the unstable connection officially blew off the rails. Red let out a mournful roar, pitiful rumbles echoing through the bond. The lion did not speak words, but the sensation only brought about one word, over and over: Why?

For Lance, he could not distinguish the pain between him and red, both of them shakened, both of them realizing they will never see or fight with him again.   
Lance realizing he was too late in acknowledging his feelings.

He ground his teeth. This wasn’t fair.

“Lance...?” Hunk asks gently through the coms. He ignored him.

It wasn’t fair. He was supposed to live. He was just a kid--They all are kids. Minus Shiro, but Shiro didn’t deserve this anymore than the rest of them.   
He should have said something. He should have intervened when he noticed Keith’s last smile at the team vanished. He should have stopped him from going to the Blade, seeing as how Keith looked so sad as he stepped out of the castle. He should have said something when Matt screamed for Keith not to do what he did.

He should have called him. Set up a video chat every week, whether it is right before a mission or five minutes until the paladins were to perform in front of an audience. He should have taken Red to the base and let him bond with her. He should have hugged him more, teased him less, actually give him a reason to say goodbye because he didn’t leave one and he left the team in the worst way possible and--

“Lance!” Shrio’s voice cut through the racing thoughts zooming through his head, not realizing he was sitting there, clutching a blade and drenched cheeks. He stared back at Shiro, face slacken and regret carved into his swimming eyes.

“He’s...gone. He’s really gone, isn’t he Shiro?”

Shiro just pulled him in for an embrace. Lance stood there, clutching onto the black paladin as he willed himself to stop crying.

“He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I know.” Shiro’s voice was shaky; lost of all powerful leadership he held in his fist. When Shiro lost Allura, he maintained control, never breaking down and prepared to fight. But this was different. 

He knew there was a possibility of getting Allura back.

There is no bringing Keith back from this.

“He died alone, Shiro.”

Shiro had no response. Instead, he held him tighter, fully aware of why he is impacted in such a way. 

“Allura, please tell me you found him.” Shiro whispered into the coms. 

The intake of a breath was heard. “I’m....I’m sorry Shiro. All we found were....” Allura trailed off, sounding as if she she couldn’t bring herself to say the next sentence.

“What? What did you find?”

Lance, unexpectedly hopeful, lifted his tear stained head up and stared at Shiro, betting money on a miracle. He switched his com link on.

“We found some remains. Almost indistinguishable if not for the...armor.” Allura pushed out each word as if it were a ten thousand pound weight. 

“Oh my God...”

Holy...” Lance was going to be sick. His stomach rolled uncomfortably, bile bubbling up his throat. This can’t be happening.

“Did Pidge see?” Shiro asked, worried. He was worried for Allura as well, but she has seen the worst parts of war and has managed through it with Coran. Pidge, on the other hand, was much younger. She was scarred from seeing Matt’s fake grave, he doesn’t know how she would have reacted to seeing actual human parts.

“No, I sent her your way.” She paused. “I’m so sorry, Shiro.”

“Everyone head back to the castle. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Shiro...”

“It’s okay, princess. Please, report to Coran and the others of our discovery.” He let go of Lance and turned to his lion. “I’ll...be busy.”

It was at that moment Pidge arrived. She hopped out of her lion, wide eyed and holding onto the one glimmer of hope. Her face fell in devastation as she overlooked the scene of the crash. As soon as she saw the Blade in Lance’s hand, she placed her head in her hands, too small for such a burden. 

Hunk and Lance moved to comfort the small paladin, but before they could so much as tap her on the shoulder she had pulled up her computer systems from her suit and worked on connecting to the broken ship. She tapped away, her fingers vigorously hacking into a down system. Hunk, Lance, and Shiro thought if stopping her, but figured it was better for her to figure it out on her own.

For Pidge considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it is the same situation with her brother. He left a grave, making Pidge believe he was dead when really he imbedded a secret message into the technology of the artifact. While Keith wasn’t a master hacker like her and Matt, he could have left a really shitty message. He had to have had a backup plan. With him watching Pidge go at her abilities so much, he could have picked them up by simply observing. 

“Pidge--” Hunk began.

“Zip. I’m working.” 

“Pidge--”

“I’M NOT GIVING UP ON HIM!” Pidge screamed. Lance and Hunk flinched as Pidge ceased her typing and glared daggers at them. “He’s like a brother to me. I would do the same for you guys, so just. Let me do this.”

So they let her work. A large screen popped up in front of them, and for a second Pidge was filled with relief. That is, until she noticed it was footage rather than coordinates. 

It was Keith, sweating and being hit by a powerful laser from another galra ship. The impact must have activated the film option. Keith noticed and was about to turn it off when a crackle was heard over the speakers, Matt’s voice coming in and stating they weren’t going to break through the shields. 

Keith sat there, staring straight ahead at the shield. He was illuminated by red and orange, the dark color of his suit an inky blotch among all the bright colors. 

“Maybe not with our weapons.” he said to himself.

The recording forgotten, he put the aircraft in overdrive, quickly veering off his initial course and heading straight for the shield. Matt yelled at him to stop, begging him to think of what he is doing. 

Shiro, seeing how all three of the garrison cadets had their mortified attention to the screen, tried to take control of the situation. He messed with Pidge’s device, praying to whatever God is out there for them not to see what happened next. 

Pidge didn’t move to stop him. She just stared, mouth agape and golden orbs sucked in. Hunk looked on, tears already trickling out from the corner of his eyes, and Lance a still figure.

The closing of his eyes. The acceleration whirl loudly in the background, and his suit burned away into orange, yellow, and lastly, white. A horrible, deafening crunch emitted from the speakers, cutting out the hard smash of Keith’s head to the dashboard. His face was angled away, but the transition did not cut out the splurge of blood coat the dash and speck the camera. As the craft went through the shield and burst exploded, they were left with the last shot of Keith’s unmoving body, the fire just barely touching his head as the camera switched to static.

Shiro stopped messing with her armor. It was too late.

“No...” Pidge forced out, small and breathy. “No...No. No. Nonono NO!” She furiously tapped at her device again, hiccups shaking her tiny frame. 

“There has to be something...He has to be---He can’t be---” She let out a wail, the tears finally falling. She bent her head down, gripping her helmet as if it were her hair. “This isn’t happening!”

Not able to hold back any longer, Lance scooped her up in a hug. He let her cry, allowed her to release all the pent up emotions she had stacked away since they were given the news. Since their life was threatened. It was like the many times he comforted his siblings, except he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to put a band-aid on the bump or scratches they gained, or distract them from the angry thoughts after a fight. This was a wound they would be living with for the rest of their lives.   
\------------  
Shiro did not return with them to the castle. He stayed behind, claiming he had to collect what he can of Keith in order to hold a funeral. Allura and Lance attempted to talk him out of it, stating it would hurt him more and most of Keith was ash, but he waved them away. 

By the time he came back, it was hours later, midnight in Earth time. Lance was still up, unable to go to sleep like the rest of the crew. They all were in the leisure room, comforting one another and eventually sitting in silence. Hunk tried to make some cookies for them, but upon seeing the finished Altean product that looked like a scaltrite piece, he threw them away, remembering the time him and Keith went on an adventure into the belly of the weblum for pure scaltrite. It was their first time really connecting. The one time he got to hear Keith make a joke without fear and leave behind the trouble of his galra heritage. 

When Hunk returned cookie-less, Lance patted the seat next to him. They laid there, remembering. 

As for Pidge, Matt was combing his fingers through her hair as she distracted herself with the computer. It is her solace; the saving grace to the turmoil roiling in her brain. Matt said nothing when she returned. He just held her as she ran to him, wanting to feel him alive and praying he didn’t turn into dust.  
Allura had her eyes closed, leaning her head on Coran’s shoulder. She had demanded Kolivan to leave, stating they were to talk later. But no matter the tough front Allura put up, she was fighting the urge to break down from losing a second red paladin. The first one being her father. It was a never ending nightmare for her, losing the people she came to care about. Losing another portion of her family, as if losing her entire planet wasn’t enough. 

Lance had left to retrieve water when he heard the familiar sound of a lion landing. Figuring Hunk would be in good hands while he is gone, he tiredly walked over to the landing deck.

What he did not expect was to find a broken Shiro, lying in front of the black lion’s claws with his head in his hands. A bag was next to him, creased with something dark and bulky. Lance could guess what it is, and therefore did not pay attention to it. He carefully approached the black paladin. His shoulders were shaking, and as Lance got closer he could hear strangled sobs seep from underneath the darkness.

“Shiro?”

Shiro sniffed and looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, double lines creasing underneath the bottom of his eyes. 

“Sorry. I’ll be there in a moment.” He said.

Rather than leave him alone, Lance sat next to him. He hugged his knees, fending off the ache in his chest. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, you know. You lost your best friend.”

He gave Lance a sad smile, then turned his attention to his hands. They sat like that for awhile, silent and in mourning. Lance did not attempt to cheer him up, how can you make someone laugh when the person you were close to died a horrible death? How can you smile when they had to gather up the parts of their friend on the battlefield, destined to turn to stardust if never retrieved? 

How were you to be joyous when your best friend was so alone until the very end?

Lance’s eyes started to burn again as Shiro spoke up.

“He loved you, you know.”

He froze. “What?”

Shiro peered at him from the corner of his eye, a gentle crease of his eyebrows. “You used to drive him up the wall. But I think he just wasn’t used to your bold personality. He came to me many times to talk to me about his conflicted feelings.”

“Oh...” He gripped his legs. Hard. 

“He was too scared to tell you. He was sure there was no way you felt the same.” 

Lance hunched his shoulders.

“You loved him too, didn’t you?”

His nails dug into his skin, leaving marks. He couldn’t respond. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but was being choked out by the memories. Keith fondly smiling at him when they first bonded, but Lance stomping on the opportunity by claiming he couldn’t remember. His soft eyes meeting his as Lance claimed to be more than a goofball, followed by Lance telling him to his face he didn’t want him as a leader. His encouraging gaze as Lance saved his ass, but was distracted as Acxa made a beeline for Lance. The comforting tone he expressed as Lance came to him about his insecurities, but brushed aside Keith’s sullen exterior as he mentioned him going to him only because he was the leader. 

The loner of the group. The angry stares directed at Keith’s frozen frame. His inability to lift his voice above normal volume. The lack of attempt to hug the others when he left. The smile leaving his face.

The sad smile.

He didn’t say goodbye because he saw himself as nothing but a tool.

“Lance?” Shiro exclaimed, concerned. Lance was shaking now, biting his lip and hiding behind locks of his brown hair. The nails on his skin transferred to cloth, almost tearing it to shreds.

Shiro touched his arm. That is what does him in.

“I loved him. I loved him so fucking much, Shiro.” The steady course of tears altered into a river, his eyes pulsing in a dull pain as he willed the heavy flow to dissipate. But as he thought more, and he talked more, he gave up on holding them back and let them come out in large quantities, his cries quiet and shattered.

“We let him down. I let him down, and it’s too fucking late.” He buried his head in the open crevice between his crossed arms over his legs. 

Shiro, letting down his tough leadership role, mourned with Lance as well. The two cried together, Shiro wrapping one arm around him and allowing Lance to use his shoulder as support.

“I know, Lance.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
With each letter passing Lance’s lips, a piece of Keith’s heart cracked more and more. He did not cry, however Keith could see the facade fade away in parts of the story. The little hitched breath, the rubbing of his eyes, the slight pull of his hair as he combed his fingers through the longer brown strands, the lowered volume of his voice as he relayed the part with alternate Keith. Keith wanted him to stop, to quit torturing himself with the memory, but every moment he took to cease Lance’s talking, Lance would put a hand up, indicating he wasn’t done. He would pause for a second and pat Keith’s knee, a sign it was okay, and would resume upon Keith’s shoulder’s relaxing a bit. 

The clock ticked away the minutes that passed by as he came to a close, asking in a hush tone “do you get it now?”

Without saying anything, Keith stood up, walks up to Lance, and for once in his short lifespan, wrapped his arms around him in a nervous embrace. He awkwardly set a hand on his head, stroking his hair comfortingly and bent his head down to rest his cheek on the top of his hair.. He did not move initially, causing Keith to think he overstepped his bounds. He was about to rip himself away until tight, shaky arms encompasses his torso. 

“You’re hurting,” he began quietly. “You all are. And I’m sorry, I never...I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

You’re our friend, how could you think this would be okay?” Lance mumbles.

Keith let out a breath. “... I lived most of my life alone; no mother, an absent father by a young age, no friends or immediate family. Shiro came along, but by the time I grew comfortable with him he disappeared again, leaving me back on the square I had been stuck on for eighteen years. My life--his life--has consisted of drifting and fighting. I lived with the ideas people were expendable. I was expendable. Whether it was for a good reason, or simply due to the human inability to care.”

“But--”

“But,” Keith interrupts, not done talking. “I came to care for you guys. Granted you drove me nuts in the beginning.” He said with a smile. “But you all became the family I never had. I had to protect my family.”

Lance slightly pulls away and looks up at him. “Why didn’t you say goodbye, then? Why did you leave us without so much as a ‘stay safe’ or ‘Lance has the worst haircut’ or...or ‘I love you’? “

His kind expression turns remorseful. “If I did that, I wouldn’t have followed through.”

“So? The mission is more important than your family?”

“No. You’re missing the entire point. If I said anything, a measly insult or a tender farewell, I would have hesitated. It wasn’t only about the mission, I couldn’t say anything or else I would have further jeopardized your lives.” Keith moved his hands down Lance’s arms, a feathery touch clasping Lance’s hands in his warm, callous palms. He traced circles with his thumb, violet orbs gliding over the action thoughtfully. In a nearly inaudible voice, he said “Your Keith refused to be left alone again.”

This was the most Keith has expressed about himself, and it kind of shaken him a little. He didn’t like talking about himself. His reasons; his protective nature. It wasn’t in his DNA. He would rather go unquestioned, which tends to ignite his hotheaded tendencies when questioned. So he kept his focus on Lance’s hands, calm by the lack of scrutiny underneath Lance’s gaze. He would have rather avoided the whole discussion altogether, but after what Lance told him there was no way Keith could leave him in a state of distress and haunting. 

He isn’t their Keith, but if he knows anything about himself, it’s that their Keith is as stubborn and lonesome as him.

“Did you ever feel like a tool, though? You cared about us, but did you get the same feeling in return?” Lance slowly asks.

Keith glances up at him, lips in a tight line, and looked back down at their hands. His grip tightens a small, almost insignificant fraction.

“...Sometimes.”

Lance’s face, tight and taut, crumbles. “I knew it.”

“See? This is why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Why, because you don’t want to speak the truth?”

“No, I just---It’s not a big deal, okay?” Keith didn’t know what was worse: being lit on fire or seeing Lance give him the saddest puppy dog look he had ever seen. He should have ran for his room when he had the chance. 

“We have more important stuff to worry about than my internal turmoil.” He pauses, composing himself for what he is about to say next.

“Besides. You were better off without me and I was of more use in the Blade of Marmora.”

Lance opened his mouth to respond, most likely with a vicious remark of disapproval, but Keith stopped him with the raise of his hand.

“We can talk about this tomorrow. It’s late, and there is something I want to give you.” Without hesitating, he took Lance by the hand and led him back to Keith’s room. Lance tried to protest on the way there, but Keith ceased it by a look screaming “shut up and trust me”, followed by a light squeeze to his hand. Lance grumbled under his breath about stubborn mullet heads.

Once they enter Keith’s room, he let go of his hand and heads to the coat rack nearby. Moving aside the Blade uniform, he picks up the signature red, white, and yellow jacket. Keith had worn it for a bit, feeling at home on the familiar object. But by technicality it wasn’t his, so he thought of an alternative new home for the jacket.

He held it out to Lance.

“From what I’ve seen between you and my Lance, you guys aren’t that much different. If that is the case, then I’m not far off from your Keith. Your Keith loved you. He...I would want you to have this.” He trailed off into a hush tone, the awestruck Lance taken by surprise at the offer. He carefully, almost as if he were afraid to break it, touch the jacket, holding it by the tip of its shoulders. He brushed his hand across it, feeling the soft fabric travel on his skin, gliding across the frayed edges of the sleeves and torso. 

A small, nostalgic smile graced his face. He looked back at Keith.

“This isn’t going to keep me warm at all.”

Keith’s eye twitches. “Give it back then, I’ll give it to someone who appreciates it.” He reaches out to snatch it back. Lance backed away and softly chuckled. He pulls the jacket to his chest, content with the material. It is cool and held the scent of dust and Keith’s soap.

“Thank you, Keith.”

Keith, not expecting such a thankful, warm look, just nods his head.

“Get some sleep, Lance. It’s late.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He turns around taking a step out the door. Keith was about to hit the hay as well until Lance stops and turns around. His expression was downturn in seriousness.

“Hey Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“We were never better off without you. We managed, but there wasn’t a day that went by where we didn’t think of you.”

Without waiting for a reply, he let the door shut behind him and left.   
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t an hour later when Keith heard a scream and a thump. Recognizing the shrill voice, he bolted out of bed and ran to Lance’s room--his Lance’s room. He booked it down the hall, almost tripping and falling flat on his face. Seriously how can he do Blade missions fine, but when there is a chance of a random threat occurring in the castle he is a damn mess?

He forced the door the Lance’s room to open as soon as he arrived. There was no one else around, meaning 2 things: Everyone is dead, or everyone is deep sleepers and it would take a huge galra attack to wake them up.

“Lance? Are you okay?” Keith calls out with his blade drawn. 

He quickly realized Lance was not in fact under attack, but was tangled in his sheets on the floor, breathing hard and looking fearfully around.  
Keith sheaths his blade and switches on the lights.

“Lance?”

His head whips towards the voice. “Oh...hey buddy.” He croaks out. He shakily crawls back on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes.

Keith, still worried, fully came in the room and stood in front of him.

“I thought you were getting murdered. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Lance glances up for a second, but still attempted to avoid looking Keith directly in the eye. “Yeah. Just a stupid nightmare.”

Keith folds his arms. “Do you...want to talk about it?”

“...Not...Not really.” Lance replies. Keith did not buy he was okay. His body was shaking, his fingers holding onto the blanket like a lifeline. His focus remained to be on the floor, Keith’s assumption of being welcomed further being proven wrong.

Right. Lance was still angry at him. 

He sighs to himself, his heart sinking. Talking to alternate Lance was a little easier. He didn’t act like he hated him all over again. His Lance...maybe there is a difference between the two. Maybe his Lance is bound to despise him for the rest of his existence.

“If you need anything, you know where I’m at.” Keith said softly. He got up to leave, knowing when he isn’t wanted. 

Suddenly, a hand gingerly grabbed Keith’s wrist. Appalled, Keith angles his head to the culprit, a pair of blue eyes nervously gazing back at him.

“This...is going to sound stupid.” He began. “But will you stay? I don’t want to be alone.”

At a loss for words once again, he nodded his head. Lance let go, relief flooding him and his stature relaxing, no longer holding the stress and color coming back into his face. Keith was about to grab some extra blankets and a pillow to set on the floor, but Lance told him he is welcomed to share the bed with him. Keith was glad to not be facing him, his cheeks were on fire. 

Still with an extra blanket, he switched the lights off and slips under the covers with Lance, the boy’s body up against the wall until Keith made himself comfortable. 

Keith closes his eyes, laying on his back and making sure not to invade Lance’s space. His breathing grew more steady with each passing moment, the silence filled with the two’s easy breathing. 

He was about to nod off when a hand entangles in his gloveless one lying on his stomach. His heart stutters, but he gave no sign of being affected. 

“You had a dream about me, didn’t you?” He asks in a whisper. He lays his head on its side to look at Lance, whose head was bowed, too shy to look up.

“Seeing a friend die isn’t exactly peachy.” Lance mumbles, weak sarcasm overshadowed by grief. “Especially not after what we heard last night.”

This was no surprise to Keith. He was exhausted, dealing with everyone’s pain and suffering. But it wasn’t like he could shrug away Lance’s openness, not when he saw his counterpart in a bad state. Keith didn’t want Lance to inherit and deal with it all on his own. Or make assumptions about Keith.

He maneuvered his body on its side, shimmying down to see Lance’s face. Lance frowns as he did this.

“The whole point of my position is to not look at you.” He gripes.

“Why?”

“Reasons.”

“Mmm...” He put his other arm underneath his head, not breaking eye contact. “I’m here, Lance. I’m not going anywhere. See?” He beheld their conjoined hands in front of him. “A pulse. Warmth. Blood. I’m here.”

“What if you’re not tomorrow?” Lance asks, voice cracking. 

“I will be.”

He gave a soft, butterfly kiss on Lance’s hand. Keith is thankful the two are too tired to freak out. For Lance gave him the kindest smile he had seen in this entire journey, mumbling a “thank you” and drifting off to sleep. Keith followed suit, but not without touching his forehead to Lance’s, his soul warmed by adoration, protectiveness, and love.

Meanwhile, alternate Lance layed in his single bed, a cropped jacket in his arms still, and dried tears stains along the apples of his cheeks over what once could have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall enjoyed that klance fluff and angst. Especially the flashback :))))) I'm not sorry :)))))))
> 
> Don't know when the next chapter will be up, but I'll work hard to make it soon. I also changed the amount of chapter this fic will have toa question mark bc I have a couple of new ideas in mind
> 
> Please leave comments/kudos! Comments are wonderful and I love to hear your thoughts!  
> (PLEASE it is my fUEL)


	5. The Lost Remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Keith's birthday but that doesn't always entail smooth sailing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mushu voice* I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVEEEEE
> 
> Helloooooo I am back with a new chapter. Sorry for the long wait, college was giving me an ass kicking and quality takes time. I'm not 100% sure this is grade A content but I tried and therefore no one should criticize me (any takers on being my beta reader haaaaa)
> 
> But please enjoy and have some tissues nearby. There is a mixture of fluff and angst

Lance is the first to wake up. He is groggy, the corner of his eyes crusted over with sand. As he blinked himself awake, he wondered by his arm was so...numb. And why was he sleeping on his side? He is usually on his back, allowing a face mask to cleanse his pores of the blemishes digging away at his perfect skin.

It wasn’t until he felt a puff of air tickle the top of his head that he realized he is not alone.

He was curled into a figure, his long arms and legs draped over the body of a male. The blankets were hiked up to their chin, a pale arm trapped underneath Lance’s head and the other holding him near their chest, as if to shield them from an unknown threat. Lance was tucked underneath his chin, black hair covering the nape of the boy’s neck in beautiful, inky waves. He could hear his loud heartbeat near his ear, the steady bump strong and continuous.

Lance’s face grew hot. Keith was cuddling him. Keith had his arms around Lance and is in his bed. Grumpy, reluctant Keith. His crush. Lance didn’t know if he was going to die right then and there of heart palpitations.

He didn’t think this through. _Yes Keith, please lay in my bed and snuggle me despite the possibility you may or may not like me and break my heart into a million pieces. Nice job, Lance. You done fucked up._

Why the hell did he think this was a good idea, again? He had a nightmare and Keith came running in, but what was it about?

A closing door...Keith in his Blade of Marmora outfit...Dark hallways...Lance screaming at the top of his lungs...

Oh right.

They were in an alternate reality where Keith died.

The dream Lance had Keith died too, them in a galra ship on a mission. The paladins had ran into the Blades, all stumbling into a trap. Keith pushed for them to get out of there, claiming he would delay the inevitable explosion for as long as he can with another Blade member. Lance and the others protested against the decision, but was dragged out by an invisible source. They were yanked away, kicking and screaming until they were all in the lions. The last he saw of Keith was a sad smile as the doors closed between them, his eyes shielded by the waves of his bangs. An explosion decorated the sky soon after, prompting Lance to scream both in the dream and out and eventually leading to Keith’s arrival.

Lance breathes a shaky breath, allowing himself the privilege of wrapping his arms around Keith’s torso and listening to his heart. It beat loudly, rhythmically, never stuttering as the deep pounding sang in his ears. He felt his troubles melt away, content with the warm body making soft, airy snores rather than a vast array of silence slamming into his eardrums. The scent of soap and cinnamon waft to his senses, Lance almost nodding off again. He was content he was not in the bad reality. He felt terrible for his counterpart, he truly did. As he said, this could have been HIS reality. His own personal Hell in space. Losing someone close to him. Facing the possibility of losing another. The love he kept buried deep inside never coming to fruition, festering into cold emptiness and broken shards.

It terrified him, but in the moment he didn’t care if he was letting on he liked Keith. All that mattered was he was alive. Sleeping peacefully beside him. It is possible he doesn’t love Lance back. Lance did keep egging him on plenty of times. Maybe he loves him like a brother, as he views Shiro; nothing more nothing less. Maybe he is being kind to him due to the light of recent information.   
Maybe it’s just a very convincing mask, for he is to return to the blades as soon as they get home and won’t have to worry about the repercussions of their actions since he would be far, far away. The odds of someone returning his affections is less likely than meeting aliens.

Lance tightens his hold and squeezes his eyes shut. He needs to stop thinking this way. Live in the moment. Be glad he can have this one moment of bittersweet bliss that is no longer part of a series of dreams he has had for months on end.

Lance was so deep in thought he hardly noticed the body by him began to move, a tired groan rumbling through his chest. Keith turned on his back, not quite registering Lance still listening to his heart and nonchalantly began playing with the boy’s hair with his uncovered hand. Lance perks up and turns.

“O-Oh! You’re awake!”  
“Yeah...” Keith said with a yawn interrupting him. “Been awhile since I had a good night of sleep.”

“You don’t sleep well at the Blades?”

Keith shrugs. “Not all the time. Our missions are more haphazard than yours.”

“So they just wake you in the middle of the night for a mission?”

“Not all the time. They do take care of us; make sure we are well rested enough to function. But we still have to act fast and in the moment.”

Keith continues to play with Lance’s bedhead, still sleepy enough to lay there and do nothing. Ever since he joined the Blades, he hadn’t woken up to a friendly face in a long time. It would usually freak Keith out to be in bed with someone--specifically Lance--yet as he fell into a dream state, the nervous pitter-patter of his heart had dulled to an even beating. When he woke up, it remained the same, inflating with a sense of home. He isn’t 100% sure Lance likes him back. He could have simply asked for him to stay out of fear rather than actual romantic feelings. He had been dubbed his rival; the loner. It is foreign to believe in a Lance wholly in love with him, let alone like him. He was just waiting for Lance to wack away his adventurous fingers, completely relieved to Keith not being dead and kicking him out Lance-style.

So as he waited he messed around with the long strands, grown after months, maybe a year of being in spice.

“Are you feeling better?” Keith asks.

“Yeah,” he said, lifting himself off Keith’s chest and laying on his side to face Keith head on. “Sorry, by the way. Must not have been cool to walk in on Mr. Suave freaking out and snuggling up to you.”

“I didn’t mind all that much. My arm is numb, though.” Keith waved his arm for emphasis.

“I’m a deep sleeper. I have to get as much beauty sleep as possible to make heads turn.”

“You make heads turn by just breathing.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Keith smiled lazily. “Okay, hotshot.”

  
As they continued to lay there, Keith began to doze off again, the comfortable bed seizing him within its grasp. Normally he is one to be on high alert as soon as their version of morning hit. But there was something about being around Lance that was so...secure.

“Hey Keith?”

  
“Hm?” His eyes remain closed, but the sleepiness departed for a moment to hear what Lance had to say.

  
“What did you dream about?”

  
Keith shifts his position, on his side facing Lance and cracking an eye open.

  
“I’m not sure. I rarely dream. Most nights are filled with nightmares, others are pure nothingness. Why?”

  
“No reason...”

Keith fully opens his eyes to look at Lance. Keith was a lot of things, but a fool? Only on the battlefield. Shiro calls him reckless, Keith calls himself “a willing participant”. He can spot lies; problems in a claim that doesn’t make full sense, or a seemingly innocent question holding more of a meaning than the other was letting on. And Lance was definitely lying. It could be the slight crease of his brow; the nervous picking at his lips, not really ripping the flesh to shreds since he has a known desire to leave his face scar-less.

“Okay, what’s up? You’re not fooling anyone.” Keith says.

  
“What do you mean? I’m fine!” Lance replies, feigning innocence.

“You don’t ask random questions. They have a purpose. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hesitated. “I...”

With a frustrated sigh, Lance took the pillow underneath him and shoves it on his face, hoping it would suffocate him to death. Unfortunately for him, it did not do the trick, and Keith stared at him with a questioning expression.

“This is all your fault. Yours and this stupid timeline.”

“How is this MY fault?” Keith asked incredulously.

“Nothing, nothing. Just forget it.” Lance puts the pillow back under his head and turns away. He knew he was being confusing. Difficult, even. But the longer he looked at Keith, the more real their situation became. Not only was his heart beating at a fast pace from the fact he spent the night with him, but over the fact there is still a chance he could lose Keith. The war isn’t over. Not by a long-shot. They still have the situation of getting home, Lotor to figure out, a shit ton of missions that could very well lead to their untimely deaths, and Keith is still in the Blade. He is laying with him now, but soon he will be back to being by himself, and who knows what the future holds. The Lance from this reality tells him to make a move. Confess his feelings to Keith before it is too late. But if he does, isn’t that leaving room for worse heartbreak? He says what he feels. If the off chance of Keith does like him back, they live happily for a time. Until death steals one of them, and if death still rips Keith away from his hands, his soul, wouldn’t he be in a worse state compared to this reality? Lance would have all the memories of what was, knowing full well he can never return to them. Knowing he was loved by someone else, but it was never meant to last. It’s practically excruciating to think about. To be so close to bliss--to happiness--just for a war to tear it all up. Lance no longer has his family with him. He is light-years away from Earth. The team and Keith are his one source of normalcy among this shitstorm, he doesn’t want to lose anymore than he already had.

“Lance. Lance, hey.” Keith gently prods, untangling Lance’s fingers from his arm, which was now aching from digging his nails in his flesh. Keith pulls him to face him, Lance biting the inside of his cheek as to not give away any signs of negative emotions. But no matter how much he buried his true feelings, Keith saw through. And Keith definitely saw past his facade, his expression softening as he touches Lance’s face and had him look at him.

“I’m here. Dark circles, grumpy voice, live pulse, everything. I’m here.”

To further his point, he grabs Lance’s hand, massaging them out of fists. Lance stares at him dumbly, a fluttering sensation tingling his chest.

“When I was a kid, I was quiet.” Keith began, keeping his attention on their entwined hands. “I didn’t like to talk to people. Not in the foster care system. Attaching yourself to others was always a risk, because you didn’t know if you’d see them again or not. You didn’t know if they would get a family before you and leave, or the state just ripped them away. It was always a gamble to form relationships. But, every now and again, I would see a child hurt. Many came through the door confused, scouring the place as if it were going to blow up at any minute. They would cry, wishing to go home, save for the cases where they came from a bad past or they were older. Older kids tend to be self aware and bottle up all their anger and confusion.”

“You don’t say.” Lance croaks out, teasing. Keith flicks his nose, making Lance look at him as if he just said he wore heart-covered underwear.

Keith smirks. “Shut up and listen. Anyway, the parents we were put with weren’t always the most comforting. There were many who ignored us, only in it for the money. Maybe child labor disguised as chores. Some tried their best, but in the end they would become too frazzled and leave the kid to sort theirself out. But every time I saw them upset, near to tears from all that has happened...Well, it was like looking in a mirror. While I didn’t want to let anyone in, it wasn’t like I could sit there and watch as they had a breakdown. So I would walk over, sit by them, and hold their hand. I would tell them the stories my father used to read to me, distract them with beautiful tales of adventure and triumph. I couldn’t necessarily tell the children everything would be okay. Let’s face it, we were in a foster home where the adults decide if we are worthy enough to call family. I wasn’t about to give them false hope. I wasn’t about to be the reason they cry at night wondering why they aren’t good enough for all the families searching for children to adopt. Rather, I told them they weren’t alone. I gave them an escape, even if it was only temporary.”

“Seems like you speak from experience.”

“I do.” Keith says softly, tracing the lines of Lance’s palms. “Lance. I don’t know what our reality holds for us. I don’t know if we will all get through this unscathed. Just like here, any one of us can die. I can’t tell you nothing will happen, because I cannot promise you something I cannot guarantee. This war...has taken so many lives already.”

Lance squirms and scoots a little bit away, his hand falling from Keith’s. “Okay, I think that’s enough story time--”

“Lance.”

“I have a pretty good idea what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“No you don’t. Just--Lance.” Keith moves himself to sit in front of Lance, legs crossed. Lance sat still, preparing himself for what is to be said. To say the mission comes first. That his life is nothing, to hear him say Lance is being a selfish child. To tell a bunch of lies he believes is truth. He may love Keith, but sometimes he wants to shake him and tell him to stop being so self-sacrificial. He couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look into those soulful eyes hell bent on delivering himself on a platter to the cause.

“I can promise you, though, that I will put all my effort to stay with you and the team. That I’m not going anywhere, not without a fight.”

Keith stood on his knees and cups Lance’s face, moving the hair out of his eyes and rubbing his thumb along the apples of his cheeks. He gave a soft smile, causing Lance to become putty in his hands and give a relieved smile back. Yes, he will fight. Because that is what Keith does best. He is not one to back down from a challenge. He is his Keith; the boy of fire and brimstone, the man who’s light will not fade and darken another doorway. This reality’s failure does not guarantee their demise.

“You pinky promise, samurai?”

“Yes.”

“No more shield incidents?”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

“Not good enough. Swear on your red jacket.”

Keith groans. “What is with you in dragging my jacket through the mud?”

  
“1995 called, they want their recalled crop jacket back.”

“Like your jacket is any better!”

“Mine is better. It has a hoodie and pockets.” He flips his hood up to make a point, laughing at Keith’s twitching eye.

“That’s it, I’m leaving.” Keith made a move to get off the bed, but Lance quickly reacted and seized his wrist, Keith looking down at his grasp questioningly. The conversation between Lance and his other self came flooding back, the words echoing in his head.

_You need to tell Keith._

They were alone, no one rustling around to interrupt them. He could tell him now, crack open the part of him he kept denying since the moment they bonded down on planet Aris. Lance is no stranger to rejection, he has been turned down many times on Earth (and space). It has happened frequently enough that usually he can bounce back from the sting of being denied. But with Keith, the thought of him rejecting Lance brought on a new feeling of pain Lance had never endured before. Keith was not just some random pretty person he met. He wasn’t a small crush bound to flutter away into the wind at the slightest sign of disinterest. He actually knows Keith.is friends with him. Fought side by side, ate breakfast and dinner together, fought over the altean remote during movie nights, and wrestled with one another during training sessions. They were imbedded in each other’s lives. Lance didn’t want to ruin that. He didn’t want to hide from Keith, refuse to partner up with him, or for their conversations to become awkward enough they could no longer be friends anymore.

Lance cherishes Keith. To bring himself out in the open is like sticking his neck out to the Galra and playing Russian Roulette.

At the same time, if he does reciprocate Lance’s feelings, he just may explode.

He wants to actually run to keith and smother him in kisses every time he visits from the Blades. To hold hands with him as they explore planets together. To brush away those locks to wipe away tears or place band-aids over cuts from falling debris. To fall asleep in his arms, safe from the nightmares for a night. If he were not safe from the monsters plaguing his sleep, he would wake up to someone willing to fight alongside him. To call him “love”, “hot shot”, “light of my life”, and not be looked at in confusion. To lift him up and spin him around the room, and maybe, just maybe, introduce him to his family and give him what he was neglected to have for so many years of his life.

So, Lance took a deep breath and steps towards the edge.

“I need to tell you something. Keith, I--”

Just then, the door swoops open, a sunkissed ponytail swinging side to side as they entered without so much as a knock.

“Wakey wakey, newcomers.” Alternate Pidge gleefully hollers. Without so much as a hesitation, she ran over and wraps Keith in a bone crushing hug, pulling his arm out of Lance’s hold. He let out a noise of surprise, but did not push her away. Lance debated on flinging Pidge out of the room or throwing himself in the airlock.

“Hey, Pidge. Good morning.” He pats her head.

“We have a surprise for you, you came at a great time.”

Keith glances back at Lance, an eyebrow raised and waiting for an answer from the former blue paladin.

“Don’t look at me, I am not my handsome self from this reality.”

“You are the epitome of humble beginnings, Lance.” Pidge said, shaking her head fondly. “Get ready, Hunk doesn’t want the food to get cold, and you know how he is about us being late on important days.”

“Important? What is today?” Keith asks as Pidge begins to leave. Her golden eyes looked at him in confusion, as if he were to know what the day is off the bat.

“You don’t know? Neither of you?”

They shook their heads.

“Well, I guess that is expected.” She gave a sad smile, her voice trailing into a soft murmur. “By Earth days, it is October 23rd. Your birthday, Keith.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith didn’t celebrate his birthday. He hadn’t done it since his dad left. It just never brought on good memories, no matter how much the foster parents tried to equally celebrate with each kid they received. Minus the parents who didn’t give a damn. Those parent’s just shrugged it off, stating the age of ten is a good age for him to learn the world is not a kind place, and will treat you accordingly. Best to get used to disappointment early, kid. Take the beautiful golden flames and snuff them out, because you’d be lucky to get one frosted covered delicacy topped with a colorful, twisty wax stick in this day and age. Aging is nothing special, and neither is he.

Unfortunately, Keith took those words to heart. He took his dreams of perfectly wrapped presents neatly displayed on a table in the midst of morning breakfast and shoved them deep within his closet of unimportance. He ripped off the rainbow banners hanging from the ceiling and shred them to pieces. He took a bat to a ruby iced cake, topped with a baby hippo and nine candles that mushed into a large mass of anger and self hatred.

Lastly, he took a lighter to his childhood tendencies, abandoning the big toothy grin and the soulful, trusting eyes he once laid upon his father and mother. Upon many beings that left him in the end, scraping out the last of his faith as they ran in the opposite direction of Keith.

Shiro had tried to make him embrace the personal holiday. He urged Keith to let go of the pain and to, for once, open his doors to happiness. No matter how short or small it is. He eventually gave in to Shiro’s pleading, if anything to shut him up about some stupid cake and gifts. He allowed him to bring him a cupcake, a belt for his knife and any other mini supplies he would keep on hand. And, without batting an eye, a full scholarship to the garrison.

That was the last birthday he celebrated before Shiro disappeared. Then he was back in the dark place he had spent most of his childhood and teen years as he hopped from home to home.

So, no. Keith did not celebrate his birthday. Nor did he mention it.

Of course knowing Shiro, he spilled the beans out of sheer stubborness. If not for Keith already losing Shiro twice, he would have killed the man.

It was safe to say he was not prepared for the large celebration planned. As he entered the dining hall, he was immediately hit with pink, blue, and green streamers and vibrant confetti, a shimmering waterfall gluing itself to Keith’s unruly hair and a loud chorus of “Surprise!”. Both his team and the alternate team were standing on both sides of him, minus Lance and alternate Pidge, who stood behind Keith.The walls, previously clad in normal Altean decor, had golden trimmed banners with flames engulfed in a red background. Long, winding violet and dark indigo streamers hung from the ceiling, weird translucent goo acting as an agent for tape. Keith almost burst out laughing at the poorly constructed “Happy Birthday” sign lazily hung above the table, cut out of white college-ruled paper with each letter colored by a dying crayon. Knowing Pidge, she would have supplied the paper and crayons, though he wonders why she had the wax art materials in the first place.

What further surprised him was the 3 tier cake sitting in the middle of the dining table, the entire dessert decorated in purple fondant with crimson borders, the Blade of Marmora weapon sitting in all its sugary glory right besides a rendition of the red lion on top of the cake. The letters “Happy Birthday Keith!” were smack dab in the middle of the second tier, the white cursive consumed by edible ruby tinted glitter. The candles were not lit quite yet, already surrounding the edge of each cake layer as evenly as possible for the number 19.   
Keith didn’t have the heart to tell them he is technically, by his universe’s standards, still 18. He was a month away from his official birth date, but technicalities.

“Happy birthday, little brother.” said his Shiro.

“Yes, happy birthday, Keith.” Allura joins. Her counterpart just stood beside her, nodding with her in agreement; a content, yet guarded smile.

“Yeah, mullet.” Lance mused. “Happy birthday to the old man.”

Alternate Lance wacks him beside the head. His Lance squawks from the assault, pointing a finger at him and declaring hima  traitor to his own kind. Keith tried his best not to laugh.

He failed.

Suddenly he was wrapped in a pair of large arms and lifted from the ground.

“Happy birthday, buddy!” Hunk cheers.

“H-hey Hunk. Nice to see you too.” He forces out, his oxygen being cut off a little from the constricting hug.

“Hey, now don’t go killing my little brother. I only have one.”

Hunk releases Keith, smiling sheepishly at Shiro. “Sorry, it’s been since yesterday we saw him.”

Shiro chuckles. “I know. Everyone will get their fair share of Keith.” He motions to the table. “Go make a wish--”

“Not before I give him a well deserved ass kicking.” Pidge interrupts, lightly punching Keith in the arm. Matt stood behind her, covering his mouth to not show any indication of laughing, though Keith knew better.

“What did I do?” He demands, ready to fight the tiny green paladin.

“Almost gave me a heart attack and made me cry.” Pidge scolds. “A shield? Really Keith?! I don’t know if you can tell but judging by the large amounts of icing Hunk and I had to scour, we love you pretty damn much.”

Keith’s eye twitches. This again? Will he never be free from this constant loop of his actions? Each time this incident is brought up a piece of Keith’s self control chips away. He understands why they are upset. But he doesn’t need another chewing out. Facing the reality they are in is enough of an eye opener as one can be.

Keith was about to retort with an icy comment when Pidge wraps her arms around his waist.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

Keith thought for sure her voice held a tremor behind all the teasing. He let his initial answer dissolve in his mouth, patting her back.

“Someone is sappy today.” He muses.

Pidge, not appreciating his good natured sass, flicks him on the nose, earning her a confused scrunch of his face. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday.”

“Technically it’s not.”

“Oh but it is. Who else is going to eat this huge cake the two Hunk’s prepared for you?”

“I’ assuming you and everyone else who helped out with the decorating.” Keith took another once over of the area, still marveled by the sheer detail and time placed into the tiny event. He has heard of people on earth making their birthdays borderline essential, a sign of class and popularity. But never in his life did he think he would receive a celebration practically on par with them.

“Okay everyone, take your seats! It’s cake time!” Alternate Hunk hollers from the kitchen doorway at the side of the dining hall.

They all sat around the table, the only ones missing was the Blade members and Coran.

“Where is Kolivan and Coran?” Keith asks.

“Coran will be here shortly,” Alternate Allura replies. “He is putting the finishing touches on your lions. They will be ready for transportation tonight.”

“And Kolivan?” He pushes. He saw how Alternate Allura reacted towards Kolivan’s name. A squeeze of her hands, the thinning of her lips. There was something bugging her about Kolivan, and Keith was no fool to play along. He is no stranger to her icy attitude, but this was just random.

It did not help her case when her lips turned slightly downwards, as if she sucked a lemon and was trying to hide her disgust.

“Yes. Well, he will join Coran. Our Kolivan has chosen to go back to the blade’s headquarters for the time being.”

Keith said nothing after that. However, he couldn’t help feel there was more to alternate Allura’s words than she was letting on.

Alternate Hunk brought out plates, excitedly placing each one in front of the paladins as soon as Keith blew out each and every candle. The teams sang happy birthday, the cheesiness of the song making him groan in response. Lance continued to sing high than everyone else, wishing to embarrass Keith as much as he can while in front of a large audience. Alternate Lance did join in, but not without an affectionate undertone. Keith actually had to stand on the chair to blow out the remaining candles, wondering why in the galaxy they put the last candle up on the top. He assumed it was Lance’s idea, because if he was known for anything it was giving Keith a challenge. Of course, it annoyed Keith at first. Why make his life difficult? He, quite literally, done nothing to the guy.

But as time went by, he saw the jabs and challenges more as a friendly outlet rather than an antagonistic move. After they began to bond and Shiro disappeared, they saw each other less as rivals and more as...friends.

What a strange and unusual word to describe Lance.

He can’t say it wasn’t fitting, though.

“What did you wish for?”

“If I told you, it won’t come true.” Keith says, receiving a pout from the cuban boy. Alternate Hunk began to carve into the cake while alternate Pidge handed them out, Keith being given the first, largest piece. The raspberry filling ooze out of the chocolate layers, tiny dark red droplets dotting the porcelains’ clean surface. The space mall in this reality must have Earth products, the last time they checked the space mall in their reality was lucky to have an Earth video game console. Hunk was pulling nonexistent strings in search of actual ingredients he could work with, rather than the altean ones that made zero sense without Allura’s translations.

“Hunk, I could marry you. I missed chocolate so much.” Lance comments, teary eyed.

“ You found real raspberries? I thought for sure we would have to settle for a weird taste of space goo.” Alternate Pidge scrunched up her nose to emphasize her point.

“That’s my boy Hunk,” Alternate Lance boasts. “Always wowing us with his cooking skills and knack for finding rare items.”

“Well I am a hufflepuff.” Alternate Hunk joins, grinning with pride. “My other self helped also. I’m glad to say even in an alternate timeline I uphold my master chef skills. Except I think my other self is much better at decorating cakes.”

“Aw, stop. You’re making me blush.” Hunk says shyly.

“I would offer my first born child for Hunk’s cooking.”

“Pidge, you don’t want children.” Matt deadpans.

She points her spoon at him. “Correct, therefore I will steal someone else’s child. Or Lance’s, if he unfortunately reproduces.”

“HEY!” Both the Lance’s holler in protest. Pidge snickers.

“Sleep with one eye open, Pidgeoto.”

“I doubt you can handle the two of us.” She slung her arm around her other self, the two evilly grinning up at the Lance’s. They paled.

Keith was imagining their future funeral when Coran burst in, his whole body concealed by a stack of wrapped, bow topped boxes.

“Sorry to be late, number five. I could not find the cart anywhere in that crowded room.”

Alternate Allura quickly got up, grabbing some of the gifts from his hands.

“Why didn’t you call for me or the others, we would have helped!”

“No need, princess. I had it all under control. Nothing gets past Coran, the master of balance.” He declares confidently, not quite aware of the few gifts slowly sliding off one another. Allura made to catch them, the luminescent paper crinkling under her grip in a fierce hold.

Before Keith could so much as utter a word, the gifts were stacked right in front of him. He had to stand up to fully see the rest of the teams.

“These...are birthday presents.”

“Well duh,” Pidge muffles through her halfway chewed piece of cake. “You are always given presents on your birthday. What kid doesn’t receive presents?”

“Pidge.” Shiro admonishes, giving her a knowing look. She stops chewing, putting two and two together and saving Keith from, rather awkwardly, avoiding the question.

“Oh. OOOOOHHHH, oh my God Keith I didn’t mean it like that--”

He put a hand up, ceasing her gradually building guilt over a matter Keith would very much just like to move on from. “Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

He glances back down at the presents. “You do realize storing these in the lions won’t be a good idea ri--”

Just then, a big, sticky glob of icing came rushing at his head, instinctively moving to the side to avoid a gross splat. On both sides of the table, In all their shining glory, the two Lance’s stood with frosting covered spoons in their hands and a smirk.

“How about you stop thinking and do a little more doing?”

“He has a good point. Keep avoiding and we will set up round two of sharpshooter practice.” Alternate Lance jokes, filling his spoon with another glob of icing.

“Guys,” Alternate Shiro says in his stern dad voice.

But it was too late. The two Pidge’s, who had been carefully observing the scene, snatched up the remainder of their cake and chucks them at the Lance’s. Alternate Lance dodged, but the other one was instantly covered in red icing and squishy brown crumbs.

“My skin just cleared up, you heathen!” Lance screeches in despair.

“Never underestimate the shortest teammate!” Pidge says with an evil grin. Alternate and original Pidge high fived, and if not for their premature celebrating, they would have noticed alternate reaching for another slice to throw.

With cat like reflexes, alternate Shiro seizes alternate Lance’s arm, shaking his head at him. “Laaaance.”

Alternate Lance looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. “What? It’s just some innocent fun.”

“The last time we had a food fight it took four hours to clean.” He says.

Alternate Lance shrugs. “Except that was with goo and this is with cake,” Without so much as a hesitation, he juts out his lower lip and widens his eyes, the blue orbs tearing up at Shiro. “Just one good throw, I must restore my honor to me and my family.”

Alternate Shiro was about to say no when, seeing alternate Lance’s gaze rapidly flit in the direction behind Shiro, he turned around and was met with a wet, sticky smack in the middle of his forehead. The cake, once a beautiful slice of sweet heavenly goodness, drips from alternate Shiro’s unamused and somewhat twitchy face onto the floor. Alternate Lance let out a howl of laughter as alternate Shiro coolly looked to who the perpetrator was, and low and behold Keith stood, proud and smug as he met alternate Shiro’s eyes. His fingers were still covered in the gooey substance, not at all making a move to hide his traitorous act.

“Lighten up, Shiro. This IS a party.” Keith teases.

Without so much as a care in the galaxy, alternate Shiro snatches his own piece and flung it in the direction of the raven haired boy. Keeping in tune with his Blade reflexes, he dodges. But in doing so did not process a person behind him in time, hearing a loud, shocked yelp. He and everyone stands to see who was hit. It wasn’t until a bulk of white hair in a perfect bun emerges did the teams go still with tension.

Shit. Allura.

And not alternate Allura, who was standing to the side with a hand at her mouth to conceal her evident laughter. It was Keith’s reality Allura. She was about to set down a present that was dropped when the pastry splattered all over her head in a mad attempt to achieve revenge.

She glared up at the groups and Keith, scanning the crowd with an icy stare.

Shiro attempted to explain, but before he could get so much as an “I’m sorry” out, she had already taken some cake and threw it at him in lightning speed. Keith started to laugh, his joy cut short by Allura turning her back on her victim and splat another piece on top on his head, making her point by slathering it all over his mane as she giggled. Soon, both teams were invested in an all out cake war, fondant and chocolate cake coating each paladin (and Coran and Matt) haphazardly. The two Hunks themselves even joined in, hearty guffaws emitting as they targeted their friends. Lance went so far as to claim treason, stating how he was meant to be on his side. Hunk attempted to hug him in response, Lance running around the dining room screaming due to Hunk being covered in icing. Hunk knew what he was doing. He may be a sweetheart but that doesn’t mean he isn’t devious.

“That’s it, I demote you from best friend to coworker!” screams Lance as he dodges the others.

“Aw, come on Lance. Just one hug!” Hunk pushes.

“No! You’ll never take me alive, traitor!”

Meanwhile, Keith looked on, both participating and fondly observing the teams. He saw a difference in the alternate teams. A weight being lifted; a shadow burning away into light, their smiles genuine and so full of possibilities. Keith had not been around long. He hasn’t watched them in the past year they had been without him, but to him it doesn’t take months of analyzing to see the difference between the time they met and now. The sad, broken aura each and every one of the team’s alternate selves seemed to have brightened. They were all being kids; forgetting the tragedies that had befallen on them and the war nonexistent at the moment. Their shoulders were lax, their eyes twinkling with mischief and stars, and their laughs...They were shaky from being unused for so long, but light and ever so free. The chains of despair, while temporary, have been lifted. Keith would like to think his other self would have been equally at peace at the image if he were here.

Once everyone had tired themselves out and not completely destroyed the cake, they all sat randomly on the floor, shaking away as much of the carnage as possible. They urge Keith to start opening his presents, to which he finally obliged to do. Though nervous, he tore each carefully wrapped gift, the whole thing still feeling like a dream. He has woken many nights of a dream similar to this. For it to be a reality was nearly unbelievable. He wanted to pinch himself to check.

They each had paired up and found a gift for Keith. They didn’t want to repeat presents, so they all paired with their other selves and went to the space mall -- except for Keith’s Lance. He had slept in with Keith, leaving the present picking to alternate Lance. Lance demanded why he wasn’t invited, Pidge responding with a quip about not wanting to disturb the love birds. Lance wanted to throw another piece of cake at her.

From the Shiro’s was a stuffed purple hippo, a pink tongue sticking out in an intended cutsie way. Keith was ready to yell at him when Shiro, seeing his expression, explained it was the only thing his parents left him. Besides the knife. His original one was left on earth, knowing very well how Keith missed the connection he had to his mother and father. Keith still wasn’t pleased with exposing this personal fact about himself to the team, but relented, deciding now was not the the time to bite his head off.

From the Hunk’s he was given a dreamcatcher. Keith has woken many times from nightmares, hardly receiving a full night of sleep except for the times he was too tired to dream. Keith never informed Hunk of this small tidbit about himself, but from Hunk passing his door and hearing a scream many moons ago, he deduced what may help his friend. It had ebony feathers, gracefully falling in two strands on each side. The beads hugged the strands, winking a silver and gold shine in contrast to the milky white lion tied in the middle of the dreamcatcher. The lion stood tall, its chest puffed out, prepared to face any foe who dares challenges the creature. Keith told himself not to lose it.

From the Pidge’s, they gave him the newest installment of their favorite game. It was right up his alley in swords and battle quests, exclaiming he could always stop by the castle to play it. It was Pidge’s not so subtle way of telling him to visit more. Now he has no choice but to visit, or he will never finish the game; not while he is stuck at the Blade doing missions 24/7. Alternate Pidge nodded along, knowing full well Keith won’t be able to visit her. But she wanted to get him something that will at least make him think of her. She did say she left a letter for him in the inside of the plastic case, but to not open it until he got home. Keith couldn’t help but feel like a question mark was above his head.

The Allura’s were a lot more unique in their gift. She wasn’t quite familiar with earthly presents, despite having him and the team from Earth. Both Allura’s desired to give him something significant; something Altean, but useful or meaningful to a human. With the help of Coran and a blacksmith familiar in Altean weaponry and an ally to the Voltron coalition, as well as the the inhabitants of the Balmera, they were able to manufacture a replica of King Alfor’s sword. The knowledge of such a weapon is rare, and they were lucky to find someone still practicing in Altean weaponry design. Keith is a skilled sword fighter. He already had a blade that manifested into a sword representing the Blades, but the gift of the Altean sword is not meant to be seen as just another device to fight. It is meant to say Keith is an honorable warrior; a soldier of high respect and skill set. A man unable to be replaced, a person of value to the team as both rebel and friend. It had a good amount of tweaks done to it, so it wasn’t a complete copy of Alfor’s sword. The Allura’s made sure to invest Galran markings to it, the blade itself holding the Marmora signia and a violet and black hilt. Altea may be gone, but their principles live on in multiple races. Including the Galra.

Coran was more goofy in his gift giving. Keith unwrapped a liquid filled container, wondering if it was some sort of Altean shampoo. Turns out it is an Altean skin cream to use when he gets older. Keith raised an eyebrow at it, but didn’t insult Coran. It wasn’t a bad gift. Keith was just never the skincare person. That was more of Lance’s area.

Matt, funny enough, gave him a knitted scarf. It was black, white, and red striped, holding a “My Chemical Romance” patch at the end and basically telling him to stay warm even when he is, under their terms, emo. Keith grumbled to himself about being bullied, Matt only grinning down at the ex-paladin and told him not to throw it out. It could be worth something one day. Worth something, yeah, sure. If it is haunted by Keith’s spirit in the end.

As for the Lance’s, they gingerly gave him a small box. Keith debated if it were a gag gift, possibly a big button saying “Lance is better than me” just to annoy Keith. He wouldn’t put it past him and his shenanigans. But, as he gently undid the crisp blue ribbon from the blox and opened it, he realized how much he underestimated Lance’s ability to surprise him. Sitting in a soft cloud of cotton laid a necklace, the jewel being a large crystal from the Balmera. It was held by a silver chain, so thin that Keith thought if he were to pull it, the metal would brittle away into dust. The crystal pulsed with a aquamarine hue, a soft glow compared to the harshness of his angry, violet blade. Keith looked up at both alternate and his Lance, mouth agape and stricken with awe.

“To be honest, it was his idea,” Says Alternate Lance, pointing a finger at the other. He blinks.

“Uh. I mean, I mentioned it last night,” Lance sputters, appalled himself. “I--Why didn’t you tell me you chose that as his gift?” He asks his counterpart, squeaky and high as a light trail of blush dusts his cheeks.

Alternate Lance shrugs. “I always have great ideas.”

Lance shook his head, finding no words for such a response. He scratches his neck nervously, avoiding Keith’s gaze. “I don’t know. It sounded like a good idea. It doesn’t do anything but look pretty. But it has quintessence so maybe it has some healing properties? I don’t know it just popped in my head--Fuck I’m rambling.” Lance covers his face with his hands and flops to the ground, wishing for death right there.

Keith, appreciating the gesture, chuckles and put the necklace around his neck. It sat in the middle of his chest, gently rocking with each movement Keith made and emulating a warm pulse.

“Thank you, Lance. It’s nice.” Says Keith, nudging him with his foot. Lance peeks out from his long fingers, waiting for laughter at his gift. But it never comes thankfully. Keith looked down at him, soft eyes and his mouth turned up at the corners in a kind smile.

“WHELP, time to get ready.” Alternate Lance says, standing up and stretching as he waits for the remainder of his team to join him. Seeing how everyone else besides Keith’s team rise up, he turned his attention to alternate Lance.

“Get ready? For what?” Keith asks.

Alternate Lance’s pep deteriorates, a tired, dark cloud casting over his blue eyes. He gives Keith a weak smile. The bright, freeing atmosphere Keith saw only moments ago faded away, the reality of the day settling in.

“We have to go visit our Keith now. He’s waiting for us.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Keith never thought he would live to see a graveyard in space.

It was the same place Matt installed a coded message on a fake grave, alarming Pidge enough to elicit a cry of despair and a sure thought she had lost both the family members she travelled to the ends of the galaxy for. The site was a memorial dedicated to those who were lost in the fight against the Galra empire, a towering structure carved with the deceased looming over those wishing to pay their respects.

Alternate Pidge lead the way, never forgetting her first time here. It was surely not to be the last.

Not one of them made a sound; an attempt at conversation. The only indication of the two groups is the even footfalls of their boots, soles against rock and rubble; practically a scream among all the silence.

When alternate Lance announced they were to be travelling to the memorialized planet to visit alternate Keith’s grave, Keith couldn’t find it in his heart to stay behind. He wasn’t sure what was the sole purpose for him tagging along -- the wish to protect them? Make them feel less alone, dull the cruel pain of visiting a friend’s grave by being there? He doesn’t quite know. Something just told him to come with. Keith, always one to follow his instincts, did just that.

And who knows. Maybe Keith himself needed to see with his own two eyes how real the whole situation was. He has not woken from a dream. But sometimes he wonders if he is living a nightmare he cannot wake up from.

What shocked him even more was when his team volunteered to join as well. The alternate team tried to deter them from coming along, explaining it is not an easy sight to see. The planet’s weather is harsh and unforgiving, and the site will bring about pain they did not need to feel when they had their friend with them. Plus, it was Keith’s birthday, and should be celebrated with merry joy, rather than shatter it with the cruelty lying a planet away. But the team shook their heads, stating they wanted to say goodbye to alternate Keith. Even in death they wish to leave him knowing he is in the memories of both his team, and the team from another universe.

After walking for what seemed like hours, they finally reach the grave. It was nothing extravagant; a simple erect stone with a thin screen implant a quarter down from the top of the stone. It was much newer compared to the surrounding markings, victims of time and erosion as bits and pieces of the stone left behind jagged edges. Alternate Pidge taps the grave lightly and the sleeping screen lit up, neon crimson highlighting Keith’s name, his date of birth, and the date of his death.

“Hey, Keith.” says Pidge quietly, dusting off the little bit of rubble that had made its way on top of his grave. “Happy birthday, buddy. We brought some friends. It’s us from another reality. Turns out things aren’t that much different. Except...Well, you’re alive and still have a crappy sense of hairstyle.”

Keith’s eye twitches. “What is with you and Lance ganging up on me?” He says, slightly annoyed. Alternate Pidge turns and smiles at him, void of her usual teasing and consumed by a bittersweet glint.

“Don’t worry, it suits you.” She pats his arm, then directs everyone to stand back. Alternate Lance, who had been carrying a medium sized duffle bag, plops it on the floor and zips it open. The rest of the alternate team surrounds him, taking several items out -- one of them being a blanket. Alternate Lance unfolds it and lays it out in front of the grave. He made sure to move aside any large rocks in the way, allowing the blanket to settle completely flat. Alternate Hunk took out an electronic, Altean container made of a sort of metal, blue strings of light decorating each side. He presses a button on the bottom and it unravels into a plate, a slice of the cake from earlier sitting with a candle dorning the top unlit. He settles it on an even plane of the grave, which happened to be the middle.

With the wind of the planet picking up speed, alternate Pidge dug into the bag and retrieved four disc-like objects. She sat them on each edge of the blanket, a type of paperweight to keep the blanket from being whisked away into the darkness.

Alternate Allura and Alternate Shiro finished preparing the area, Shiro taking out the same presents that were given to original Keith, and Allura gently placing a vase full of strange, but beautiful flowers right underneath the screen displaying the deceased name.

“I wish I could find some Juniberries,” Alternate Allura says, morose. “They were an exquisite flower on Altea. We often laid our dead to rest with sweet Juniberries upon burial as a way of ensuring a peaceful transfer into the afterlife.”

Alternate Shiro nods, sad as he set down the stuffed hippo. “I’m sure he would have loved them. It’s the thought that counts.”

“Yes, I suppose.” Alternate Allura closes her eyes her hands still on the vase. “Even a year later the wound is still fresh. Much like the thought of Altea.”

“You’re not alone in this, princess,” says alternate Shiro, soft yet full of so much emotion.

Despite Keith being behind them, he felt like a ghost looking in on his funeral. It was like he wasn’t there, wasn’t the reminder not to be sad. Keith is not of their realm. No matter how much he wants to comfort them, to tell them all of this was unnecessary, he couldn’t. Because he didn’t exist in this reality anymore.

He looks around him, wishing he hadn’t. His team gazes at the scene, the look of horror slowly spreading across everyone’s faces. They each moved a little closer to Keith, Pidge going the extra mile and actually pulls his arm from the confines of his crossed arms and hugs it.

“Pidge, what--”

“Just let me confirm you are you and not a hologram,” says Pidge, hiding her face with her short hair. If it weren’t for Pidge’s wobbly voice, Keith would have thought she was joking.

“I told you the team needs you,” Shiro says. He didn’t touch Keith, though the twitch of his metal hand indicated otherwise.

“You all may sit,” says Alternate Allura with a closed mouth, but kind smile. They did so, the groups larger than intended and veering off the blanket.

“Last time we started off with stories of Keith and our favorite moments with him,” Alternate Allura began. “This time, I’m thinking something more...personal. Something meaningful.”

Allura, who had been reserved up until now, pipes up. “On Altea we would sing a special song for those who died in battle and used our Altean magic to illustrate the story we were telling. Why don’t we try that?”

Alternate Allura’s smile lengthens, reminiscent of the past. “Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. Come, shall we commence the ritual?”

Allura stands up and walks over to her counterpart, the two on each side of the grave. They took a breath and, with the paladins silent and in awe, began to sing.

It was soft; a tragically beautiful melody personifying the marriage between frayed edges of agony and tearful, calmed acceptance. Their voices waver between high and low ranges, the emotions seeping into each word and syllable passing through their lips. It was a tale of heroism; an end to tyranny, and the birth of a new era. A soldier’s anthem, a civilian’s hope, and a family’s prayer for all to be well. It was the sacrifices of warriors and the tears of those behind. But if it were anything, it was a song about healing and to keep fighting for what is right, for those who once did could no longer carry out the wish.

As they continued, a light haze of blue encompasses their bodies, alternate Allura raising her palms to transfer all the blue light to her cupped hands. Original Allura did the same and together they released the Altean energy, the light shining brightly as it expanded past their draining fingertips. The energy circles into perfectly shaped orbs, dancing around the atmosphere and diving between several paladins. They were surrounded by the warm energy, the sadness lifting for but a moment. Then, the infinite amount of orbs coelesk in the middle of the open area the paladins allowed, bursting into images of the stories both Allura’s wish to tell.

They manifest first into the first time they meet the paladins, Keith and Lance initially biting each other’s heads off, the two pouting when scolded. The paladins laugh at the scene displayed, Hunk nudging Lance as if to say “remember when you hated the guy?”

They dissolve into several scenes after that. Allura finding out Keith is part Galra and immediately rejecting him. But eventually, with a moment to think of the circumstances and who Keith really is, accepted him by embracing the young paladin. For, she had remembered the time he protected the Arusians, going so far as to hug one who was immensely grateful despite his aloof nature. The accepting of him as a paladin by the Red lion, the hardest to tame, but the most loyal of all next to Blue.

Then the orbs delve in deeper. The suicide mission with Thace, a past blade member. The plea for Allura to snap out of her brainwashed state of her father’s memory data being corrupted, and his attempt to push Allura not to trust the alternate Alteans who wished only to use her for their own schemes. One of the many breakfasts and dinners they all had together, laughing and teasing Keith for getting owned by Shiro in the training room. The times they stayed up at night, explaining to Allura what Earth is like, the kind of traditions they had, and Keith and Pidge eagerly going into detail how they tricked the authorities in the garrison. The two went so far as to embark on the moment she had walked in on a mess in the kitchen, Hunk and Keith completely covered in space goo due to trying to make a (failed) smoothie. Allura didn’t know what a smoothie was, or why they tried to use goo. All she could care to recall was the hoot of laughter bellowing out of him and Keith’s sad attempt at hiding his amusement by covering his face. His shaking shoulders gave him away. The mice had ran in and licked the goo off of them, and Allura couldn’t help but smile as she saw how gentle he was with petting the mice.  He wasn’t grossed out at all by their way of cleaning them up.

The Allura’s couldn’t help but add in a little twist of their own, which happened to feature Lance and Keith. They were playing the video game Lance and Pidge scored at the space mall. They were arguing over which fighter had the best moves and combos, Lance proclaiming the one with two swords is efficient, while Keith states it has many faults and could lead to terrible hand coordination and that the character should have one sword. But they were not angry with each other -- not truly. Lance had an excited air to him, using his arms and hands to emphasize his point in the whole debate. Keith kept his arms crossed, but every now and then cocked his head to the side, smugly looking up at him with the ghost of a smile. They teased and jabbed, eventually going back to the game and shouting insults at one another for killing the other. If Keith or Lance had scooted a little closer to the other player, they would have been touching shoulders. When Allura stumbled on Lance in the middle of the night heading to bed in the wee hours of the morning, she couldn’t help but notice the content look in his eyes.

Lastly, they ventured into the loss. The orbs lost a bit of their shine, alternate Allura projecting most of what she and the team had experienced. Shiro staying up most nights from nightmares of Keith, telling Allura how it was all his fault he was dragged into this space war. Allura being his rock, but she too mourning just as she did with her people. The funeral, where Hunk gave an emotional speech on his adventures with the red paladin. Pidge’s angry kicking of her game console, nearly destroying it into a million pieces before Matt stopped her and continued to stay in her room with her, telling Matt she can’t stand to lose another brother. Lance and Coran installing Keith’s memories so they can still talk to him, yet their movements were so full of defeat. Them all at the funeral, watching as his body was buried amidst a rainstorm that disguised the growing amount of tears coursing down their damp cheeks. The last image was of them creating the blades in remembrance, touching it for good luck whenever they are to go out into battle and pray Keith’s death was not in vain.

The ritual and song ended, both Allura’s exhausted from the amount of energy they outpoured for the display. Both had tears streaming, but kept their grasp on the desire to stay calm and collected. They sat down as the original team took their time recovering from the scenery and the alternate team remain quiet.

“Now, lets--”

“I’m sorry,” says Keith, interrupting alternate Allura. His hands are balled into fists o his lap, refusing to look at either of the Allura’s. “Sorry, sorry. Just...Seeing this is a lot. I never...I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t think anyone would care, that it mattered in a war larger than us. I wanted to keep you all safe. You are the closest thing I have to a family, and while I left that didn’t mean I...I just...” Keith trails off, grinding his teeth to keep back the overflowing rage and sadness from consuming him whole. Tears pricked his eyes, but he refuses to cry. He will not cry.

“I wanted to protect you.” He says softly.

“Keith,” Shiro starts quietly. “This isn’t a punishment. We know why you did it. We only wish it didn’t have to be you. We aren’t angry. And if we were, the anger was more directed towards ourselves and the situation.”

“Okay but Pidge was a liiiiiitttttle angry.” says alternate Hunk. Alternate Pidge, who happened to be sitting next to him, glared from underneath her glasses.

“I don’t care if you’re the hufflepuff, I’ll bite you and make it look like an accident.”

“Ooooohhh, kitty can bite.” Alternate Lance says, poking fun at alternate Pidge. She growls.

  
“You’re on thin fucking ice, McClain.”

“Come at me short-stuff.”

“The point is,” Shiro continues with a stern look at the two bickering paladins before turning his attention to Keith. “War and revolution is nothing without sacrifice. What you did, Keith, is to be expected. A necessary evil amidst the carnage. However all of us still hoped it would never come to that.” He smiles tiredly, keeping up the leader persona. “You’re a hero, Keith.”

Keith turns to the grave, avoiding Shiro’s eyes. “Would you do the same?”

Shiro took in a breath, Keith still not looking at him. He braces himself for the answer, for despite him wanting to believe in the answer he hopes for, he knows Shiro all too well what his response will be.

“If the situation calls for it? Yes, without question.”

Of course he would say that. Of course Shiro would be willing to give up his life for a shot at defeating the Galra empire. Keith and him may not be related by blood, but their morals and personality sure do line up. The statement clawed at his chest, ripping the healing wounds open again and squeezing out just enough of the darkness residing deep within Keith to make him bite down on his bitter retort. Who was he to judge, when he too thought the same way.

But Sometimes Keith wished Shiro was different.

Sitting beside Keith, Lance watched his posture go rigid and his jaw set in a firm line. On the same level as Keith with his reaction to Shiro’s answer, he intertwines their hands together, Keith almost jumping out of his bones from the sudden touch. Lance gently applies pressure, a way of communicating his intent. He is there for him; isn’t alone as he used to be. Keith eases himself into relaxing against the touch, a foreign expression of comfort for him, yet not unwelcomed.  
They had been separated for so long. Keith could hardly remember the last time one of his teammates were speaking comforting words and lending sympathetic glances. He had been surrounded by nothing but silent galra soldiers, deadly debris amid a sea of stars, and a blaring timer counting down the minutes before an explosion. As for Lance, he kept himself to the sidelines--watching from afar as Pidge and Hunk screamed in triumph over their successful experiments, and Allura and Shiro weighing complex battle strategies. They needed time apart to grow; to figure themselves out. But as they returned, the blaring hole in the middle of the canvas they called their lives were finally filled.

Leaning on one another is a gift they had been needing for an all too long time. It was almost funny--almost. Lance couldn’t stand being within fifty feet of Keith. But here he is, relieved to have him in his life still. Even if it is temporary and he does go back to the Blade of Marmora.

“That would be enough, Shiro.” Allura demands, glaring daggers his way. “This is a time of remembering, not necessary--or should I say unnecessary--demise.”

He backs down and the ceremony resumes its place, alternate Allura reaching over and affectionately ruffles Keith’s hair. Keith did not deem the time appropriate to fake bite her. Original Allura, on the other hand, reached behind her and plucked an unknown artifact, Keith not knowing what it is until she leaned over and curved it around his ear.

“Despite our lineage, Keith, you will always have a home with us. You are both paladin, Galra, and family. My family. Never will I see you otherwise again, for Galra does not mean evil, and Altean does not mean peace. You are not some mindless soldier, but a dear friend to us all. Please never forget that.”

There was so much emotion in her voice, Keith knew she did not escape the brunt force of this reality. She is on par with the others, and Keith wondered if he was hallucinating the whole thing. He is glad he isn’t. The flower wasn’t his favorite part--not because he hated flowers, but because he is an awkward person who hasn’t experienced...flower tucking? It raised a question mark above his head. Nevertheless, he did not shy away.

Alternate Allura, on the other hand, had reached inside the duffel bag again and pulled out a long line of connected ruby red, blooming flowers. Each was attached by the stem, the soft petals still fresh but somewhat crinkled from being stuffed in a bag. It wasn’t until closer inspection did Keith realize they were fake, the iridescent nt shine of the stems foiling the illusion.

“What are those for?” Asks Lance, beating Keith to the punch.

“The area is a little gloomy, so we figured he would like some color for his birthday.” Alternate Allura answers. She fiddles with one of the petals as she works to gently place it on top of the grave. She made sure to avoid the cake, wrapping it around the circumference of the birthday treat.

“Hunk, do you have the Earth fire starter?”

“You mean the matches? Yup, brought some in my fanny pack when we first arrived in space.”

“Good, may I?” She asks, lending her hand out.

He sets them in her palm. She successfully lights the candle, the wind eerily quiet and serene. The planet was known for its harsh weather, but for the day they chose to visit it was quiet enough the far away whir of the castle could be heard. The small flame stood still and mighty, a bright orange glow amidst the sea of headstones. The cemetery almost did not seem as sad. As if a veil of peace had enshrined and sucked away the tragedy that reigned.

Alternate Shiro touches the side of the stone right by Keith’s name. “Happy birthday, dear brother.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the alternate team had finished recounting the events of the past year and pushing Keith to tell them of his adventures on Earth, they all packed up and set forth to the castle.

Most of them, that is.

Noticing a particular set of alternate blue armor missing, Keith turns around, causing both alternate Shiro and original Lance themselves to stop.

In the distance was alternate Lance, still sitting by alternate Keith’s grave and what seems to be him in a deep conversation.

“He will catch up,” alternate Shiro asures, taking note of the deepening crease on Keith’s brow. “He visits at least once a week and just talks. Today is no different.”

“What does he usually talk about?”

Alternate Shiro shrugs. “I’m not completely sure. He likes to come alone. Every now and then he would offer, but even then he’d be...conflicted.”

“Over what exactly?” Lance asks, hesitant.

He meets Lance’s eyes, as if he knew exactly what alternate Shiro is about to say. “Over whether he wants us to hear what he has to say.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then Pidge used her bayard and flung me across the room! I thought only Allura could chuck me like that, but wow Pidge sure has trained a lot since then. And Hunk! He wasn’t scared at all in the most recent mission. He went straight into the fight and blew away at least 50 ships in one go.” Alternate Lance says excitedly. He was sitting cross legged in front of the grave, the candle melting nearly all the wax and wick off on the cake and his armor coated in dark debris from moving around a lot during his storytelling. He waved his arms in the air, flung his feet out on occasion, and made action noises in between, as if his Keith were right in front of him and giving his signature smirk.

“I think Shiro’s galra arm got ten times more scary, but in a good way. He’s mastering it really fast. Pidge is trying to convince him for her to install lasers and fireballs. Shiro is being stubborn because he doesn’t, and I quote, ‘want to cause mass property damage.’ ” Lance put air quotes around Shiro’s words, making a goofy face. “Like, too late? Destroying Galra property is different. Except for the time you indirectly caused Red to go AWOL.”

Lance looked back on the memory, laughing to himself over Red ignoring Coran and going crazy at the Blade headquarters. He was worried then, but now after bonding with Red for some time, it is more amusing. Red has always been a protective parent, regardless of their strange way of bonding with the paladins.

“Remember when Red didn’t want to take you in? Took you getting sucked into space for the stubborn lion to give you a chance.”

Eventually the laughter died down as he is flooded with memories. He picks at his gloves, moving his gaze away from the silent tombstone.

“Shiro really misses you, you know.” says Lance. “I find him often in the lion’s hangar sitting by Red’s feet. He’d twirl your knife in his hands, as if he can find answers in the piece of metal. You were the only family he had up here with him.”

Lance unfolds his legs and pushes them to his chest, hugging them with his long arms and sitting his head atop the knees.

“Everyone has the same question: Why. Technically it has already been answered by your counterpart. Who might I say is exactly the same as you.” A smile touched his lips. “A reckless jackass with a heart of gold.”

He takes a breath. “I guess the ‘why’ we are asking is...Why us? Why our universe had to be plagued with loss? Why did we have to suffer losing...You?”

Lance had lost count of how many times he has visited and asked the same questions. Except this time he spoke them out loud, begging for an answer that will never come from the person he wants to hear from most. As if there is a limit to how many times he could as before a blue fairy popped up and said “Congratulations! Your 500th attempt won you a time machine to fix everything!”. Such possibilities only exist in fairy tales and sweet dreams. Lance is for sure in a neverending nightmare.

“Stupid how I keep running around in circles with the same  questions, huh?” Lance asks the tombstone, a hoarse hush in the middle of the empty atmosphere. “You know, Shiro never got a chance to see you one last time. I think that is his one regret, besides not saving you. He wasn’t able to actually see and talk to his little brother in person after the clone fiasco.”

He reflects on the days with the clone. It wasn’t the real Shiro that pushed Keith to the Blades, the entire team believed he had truly returned to them after being lost for months. But when Pidge found her brother alongside a mysterious stranger in a mask and unveiled themself to be Shiro as well, it didn’t take too long for everyone to put two and two together: the black lion sent Shiro to safety and the Shiro that had been with them the whole time was a clone. They were searching a way to get back to the team, sending rebel messengers left and right and going so far as to try to calculate the location of the castle with their dated system. But with a bounty on Matt’s head, as well as rebel fighters either being killed in the process or bigger, more important missions being placed first, their way of contacting the team had been a game of hoops and ladders.

Keith couldn’t believe it, but then again it would explain Shiro’s altered, unruly attitude upon return. He wanted to help get rid of the fake, but it had already been done in his absence. Keith was, in a way, relieved. It meant he didn’t have to fight someone with Shiro’s face. It was hard enough losing him twice, imagine having to fight someone who looks and sounds like your best friend.

But as happy as Keith and Shiro were to be back in contact, it still wasn’t smooth sailing. Keith had missions he needed to be on under orders, and the coalition was getting antsy for their arrival and participation. As much as they wanted to see each other and have that long awaited reunion, it had to be placed on the back burner until a calmer moment in the revolution happened.

That moment never came.

“He has healed significantly since then. But every now and then he’d look to the stars and get this far away expression. As if he can manifest the person in his thoughts. Guess it’s better than the times he couldn’t operate his lion properly from late nights of nightmares and no sleep. I don’t think any of us will be able to fully forget the pain, though.”

Lance unfolds his legs and reaches inside a small bag he brought along inside the duffel bag. He swiped it as the others were packing, keeping the turquoise silk pouch encased in his palms. The others didn’t seem to notice. They were distracted by the announcement from Coran to return to the ship. Apparently the Blades reported some important information for their next excursion. But Allura gave him the go ahead to stay behind a little longer.

He intied the pouch and took out a box similar to the one the other Lance gave Keith. It held the same balmera crystal, but was carved into a heart and separated at the middle, splitting into two necklaces instead of one. He gingerly picked one up and wrapped it around the corner of the headstone. Allura had given him a form of Altean putty that lets you mold it into whatever shape you want and hardens once stuck on a surface. Lance had made a hook out of the Altean putty and stuck it to the corner, where now the Balmeran crystal dangled, swaying side to side in short angles.

A gentle, yet melancholic smile graces his lips and his morose blue jewels brightens with tenderness. “I know: cliche gift giving. Who hasn’t given their loved ones a heart shaped item?”

Lance chuckles, a soft rumbling in his chest. “I think it’s sweet.”

He imagines Keith in front of him; inky tendrils flowing down his shoulders, indigo irises crinkling at the sides in an amused manner, and the ghost of a smile tinging the ever so used scowl he loved to adorn. The Marmora armor was no more, replaced by the familiar horrible cropped jacket and his comfortable black T-shirt and jeans. His form leaning against the headstone, one knee propped up and an arm resting on that very knee. A typical stance for Keith. A trait Lance teased him about, but would give anything to see again.

 _“You’re a sap.”_ Keith would say, a laugh bubbling in his throat.

Lance would poke fun at him in retaliation, probably point out how it was more romantic than knives. They would bicker, eventually divulging in a fit of laughter and playful banter. Lance would drape the necklace over his head, watching as it laid to rest over the middle of Keith’s chest. It would pulse with a translucent glow, shoving away the shadows lurking in the pit of his heart. He would tinker with it and never take it off, save for the battles in heavily guarded Galra stations.

He closes his eyes and bows his head, the fantasy, the mirage fading away. He wills himself to seize his growing turmoil and keep them at bay, wanting to unfold in the safety of his own room.

His voice came out shaky. “I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. Maybe you found your mother or father. And if not, I’ll see you soon. Not too soon, You’d kick my ass.”

He let out a watery, weak laugh, “Imagine that. Lance McClain, entering heaven and the first thing he experiences is an ass kicking. Sounds like something only you can do.”

Steadily, he stands up and wipes his eyes, taking a breath to get his baring back and join the team like a soldier.

“Happy birthday. Don’t lose that necklace, okay? It would be pretty awkward arriving and seeing you without it. Don’t do stupid stunts too---you may be dead but that doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.”

He dusts the top of the grave, flicking some dirt away.

“I love you. I’ll be back next week.”

As he turns to head back to the castle, a single gust of wind blew and the candle flickered out.

\-----------------------------

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to be That Bitch but uuhhh ghOST KEEF
> 
> Please leave kudos/comments! I live off comments it is my food
> 
> Update should be within two weeks, maybe sooner but I won't promise anything. Shit gonna hit the fan rEAL SOON


	6. The Last Quintant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is concerned for alternate Lance, and Allura is confronted about her strain relationship with Kolivan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M LITERALLY ABOUT TO LOSE INTERNET FOR THIS LETS GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD

Alternate Lance kept a laxed, happy persona when he returned from the graveyard. He rolled his eyes at his concerned teammates, waving away their concerns and coolly said he was okay. He talked too much and that’s why he took so long to return. However, Keith didn’t buy any of it. He noticed the light sheen of water along his eyes. The tense stance of his posture as the team surrounded him, and the faint tremble of his hands when he released his tight fists. 

Alternate Lance was not okay. While Keith normally minds his own business in other people’s affairs, this one involved him and he would be damned if he was to sit at the sidelines as if everything was peachy. 

Everyone was getting ready to set up an Altean movie--a tradition they do on everyone’s birthday and has the birthday person choose the film. Alternate Shiro and Keith’s Hunk and Pidge were in the kitchen preparing snacks, while Alternate Allura checked on the status of the lions with her other self and Coran. Alternate Pidge and Hunk were taking out the movies, giving suggestions for Keith to pick based on his past viewings when he still lived at the castle. They shouted and giggled in joy, reminiscing on Keith’s poor choice in movies, earning an affectionate roll of his eyes. Alternate Lance, however, exclaimed how he forgot something in the control center and would return shortly. 

Keith looked to his reality’s Lance, searching for any signs of knowing what his counterpart could be thinking. Lance just let out a breath and motioned towards the exit alternate Lance took with a jerk of his head--a silent encouragement to go and talk to him. 

A part of Keith wanted to argue. Shouldn’t Lance do the talking? That was himself. No one knows Lance more than his own mind. Keith is a lot of things--a comforter he is not. So he got lucky with his Lance. He isn’t completely confident in his ability to help. Isn’t that why he earned the title “emo loner”? His solutions to problems always ended up in either verbal altercations or fists being thrown. Fighting was easy. Talking to someone, emotionally being a rock for another person...he is more than rusty.

But Lance just gave him a knowing look, one that screamed “he wants you, not me”. As if to solidify is point, he plopped beside Shiro and offered him some popcorn. 

With a deep sigh, Keith ruffled alternate Pidge’s hair and pointed to the movie alternate Hunk picked out, saying he is going to check up on their teammate and to start the movie without him. 

Keith half expected teasing from them. Instead, they nodded their heads, understanding what he means and pushed the silver disc inside the Altean player. 

There were many scenarios Keith ran through his head as he walked to the control center. A mess of a paladin on the floor, curled in on himself. The sound of blasts emanating from the training room, lying to the group on his true location as to avoid being disturbed. Angrily throwing his paladin armor across the room, sick of the war and sick of the bloodshed. Though Keith internally believes that is more of his style rather than Lance’s. 

He encountered neither of those things. Rather, Upon the soft woosh of the doors, he is met with an armored Lance with arms folded, blue helmet resting on the ground by his feet, arms folded across his long torso, and morose eyes looking up at the stars displayed before him in all their glittering glory. He did not turn at the sound of the doors opening.

“I’ll be there soon, princess. I need just a minute.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but the princess is checking the status of the lions. See if they are fit to fly yet.” He replies smoothly, earning himself a jump from Lance.

“Quiznack, Keith,” He says, turning to him. “I didn’t know you’d take your ninja status to heart.”

“I’m not a ninja, but thanks.” He smiles. Keith steps over to him, shoulder to shoulder amidst the sea of stars.

“You doing okay?” He asks.

“Yeah!” Lance exclaims far too quickly. “Yeah, I’m alright. Like I said, I’ll be in to see the movie in a moment. I need to...” Lance looks around, as if he were searching for something. “Double check security.”

Keith lifted a dark eyebrow. “Security is fine. Allura and Coran are the only ones who can check it.”

“This is a different reality, I help too.” Lance counters, sitting in his chair to prove a point. Or a weak point, in Keith’s opinion.

Lance gave a small smile, one Keith is sure not to fall for. His lips are turned up easily, but his eyes did not hold the blue sheen of excitement--the natural openness Keith was so used to seeing throughout the castle. Even when Lance poked fun at Keith they still held the twinkle of mischief. 

Rather, they glazed over with a false sense of security, hiding the dull pulse of prolonged grief.

“Lance...” Keith says, arms crossed as he follows to where he sat. “I may have been gone for a long time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see you hurting.”

“Keith, I’m fine.” He says quietly. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

“Bullshit,” Keith counters through clenched teeth. “I’m not stupid, Lance. Yesterday you told me how you loved m--how you loved this reality’s Keith. We literally came from his--my--gravesite.”

Lance winces at Keith’s blunt words, avoiding eye contact. Overcome by guilt for his harsh, blunt statement, Keith clears his throat and kneels at the foot of Lance’s seat. Hesitant at first, he shakily, gently reaches up and takes Lance’s hand, the other boy intaking a breath at the touch.

“Please, talk to me.”

With that, Lance cracks. He crumbles, his breath hitching and tears blinked into an overwhelming stream. He bows his head, trying to bite down on the sobs racking his body, but ultimately taking over Lance’s wish to remain passive; unfeeling. Moved on from the year long torment and in an okay state. Yet here Lance is, showing his true colors on the matter. And it broke Keith’s heart.

This is what he left behind. This is what he could have left behind. All because he was so desperate to save them. He knew this war is bigger than all of their wants and needs combined, but does that make everything they do okay? Is it really worth it in the end? Yes would have been the answer Keith would give, this is the matter of good versus evil. But now...Now he doesn’t know. His morals are the same in his head, but his heart, the piece of him he has kept locked up ever since his father died, aches with an intensity rivaling the sensation of being shot. 

He combs his fingers through Lance’s hair. “Lance. Lance it’s okay, I’m here.” He straightens to stand on his knees, bringing his arms up to hold a slumped Lance in his arms. The paladin wraps his arms around Keith’s chest, practically sobbing on his chest. He felt hot tears stain his t-shirt.

“Shh...It’s okay.”

“I miss you so much,” He says, his voice quivering. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“I know.”

“I never called him. I never visited him. I didn’t even ask for him to stay with us instead of going to the Blade.”

“It’s not your fault.” Keith reasons, growing concerned.

“But it is!” Lance argues, self loathing bleeding into his tone. “If I had said something--”

“It wouldn’t have changed a thing.” Keith finishes, careful and slow. He pulls away, but moves his hands to cup Lance’s face, making him look at Keith. He himself wants to cry at Lance’s expression. He isn’t only sad. He is  _ broken _ .

“I made my choice. You could have asked me to stay and maybe, maybe I would have. But even then I may have still left. I know in my reality I would have. I’m pretty reckless, if you haven’t realized.”

He brushes some stray droplets off of Lance’s cheeks with his thumbs. If only he could wipe away his grief just as easily. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this. He wouldn’t want you to feel guilty over his choices.”

“I know,” Lance says, wrapping his hands around Keith’s wrists. “But I can’t...I can’t help but feel as if I could have said or done something.” He squeezes his eyes shut and his hands tightens on the boy’s wrist. 

“Lance, it has been a year,” says Keith softly, not unkind. “How long are you going to hold onto a past you cannot reverse? Take time to heal, but you’re not going to move on until you accept...” Keith tries to word his next sentence with carefully. “You and the team are frozen in time by your guilt. This reality’s Keith and myself doesn’t want this life for either of you.”

“So, what we are supposed to forget about you? Erase your existence and be happy?” Lance snaps, his scars morphing as he scowls and pulls away from Keith’s hold. “Yeah, that sure is going to work fantastically.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying,” He replies, ignoring the natural instinct to snap at Lance as well. This is not his fault. Keith knows what it is like to be stuck in the same mode of thinking. Granted he reacts more violently, but he is trying his best to handle the situation with care. Patience yields focus is what Shiro always stresses. Well, Keith doesn’t know if he is up to par with said advice. There is a reason he doesn’t comfort people often. But it’s not like he can actively ignore Lance. 

“What I’m saying is...to at the very least, stop blaming yourselves. Let yourself heal and move on. Because just wishing isn’t going to bring me back. In fact, seeing you all dwell--especially you--hurts me.”

Keith doesn’t know what came over him; Sorrow, remorse, possibly love, but whatever it is, it certainly is powerful. For he lifts himself a little bit to lay a gentle kiss on Lance’s forehead, soon after bending his head to touch Lance’s. 

“He may not be here, but even in death he loves you, and would want you to healthily move on.”

Lance looks at him in awe. Who would have thought Keith was capable of silencing Lance of all people. When they first met, they were jabbing and insulting one another. Months, technically a year or so later here he was, holding his distraught friend in his arms and whispering sweet words. 

After a moment of thought, Lance slowly nods, the sobs dulling into sniffs. 

“You’re right. But I...I can’t help but miss him. Every day. The training room is so quiet. I always expect to run into him there, or to hear his footfalls in his room at night. But when I check, I realize I will never hear them again.” He began to get choked up again, but he took a shaky breath, trying to regain composure. “I miss him. I miss you. I miss our bickering, our bonding moments, his rare smiles...I miss you so much.”

“I know you do,” says Keith, moving to embrace Lance fully as he slid to the floor where Keith sat. Keith held onto him, one arm surrounding his shoulders and the other to comb through his hair soothingly, protective yet loving. “It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to cry. Just don’t forget who you are.”

Lance didn’t reply. His only response was gripping the arm combing his hair, stopping the movement and pulling it down to hold as he continued to let out his built up emotions over the course of the year. Keith let him do as he will, not once refusing him. And he continued to sit there as he sobbed,scream, and shake. Letting him know this is what the alternate Keith would be doing if he were able. As he did, he made sure not to release his own tears, allowing for himself to be Lance’s rock. 

“Please don’t leave.” Lance cracks out.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Keith whispers, laying his head on Lance’s, not once moving from his spot. “I’ll be here as long as you need me.”

So Lance cried. He screamed, yelled, wailed, trembled and gasped for air when his lungs burned for oxygen. He released a years worth of pain he had stuffed away at the bottom of his heart, keeping them under lock and key until it burst in a stream of raw, unending energy. Keith did not have a way of cheering him up. That isn’t exactly his forte, he can hardly lift his mood into a more positive outlook when things are bad.What could, and did do is hold him and rub circles on his back. He will not be around when the second quintant is up, so he did what he could in the short time period he had. He only wished he could reach inside Lance and pry the parasite plaguing his heart for this long. Or to erase his memories of them meeting; the two connecting throughout the missions and occasional break periods Allura would grant them. Though Keith does not want to be forgotten, he would sacrifice his presence if it meant the bright smiles to Lance and the team. 

He let out a shaky breath, but made sure Lance did not sense his weeping. The time is not about him. It is about Lance.

Despite his state, Keith continues to be the rock.

“When you are thinking of me,” Keith softly began, still rubbing circles and looking ahead towards the window of space. “Look to the stars. You may think I’m not there, but consider one of them to be me. Watching you both from another plane, rooting for your survival. Anticipating your victory and eventual return home. I’m just a new star in the sky, waiting for you to look up and realize I’m not really gone. The red lion was mine,the jacket I wore, and the stars are my home. I’m still with you, you just can’t see or hear me.”

Lance, caught off guard by the statement, lifts his head and stares at Keith in shock. Keith, with a small smile, points at the array of stars as a response. 

“How about that one? Top left? That one could be me. It kinda has a red aura, no?”

Lance follows his finger to the star, gazing at it for a good moment. A slow, tired but content smile made its way to Lance’s lips.

“Yes. It’s perfect.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Keith and alternate Lance eventually came back into the movie room after Lance claimed he had to wash his face so the salt water didn’t ruin his complexion. Keith couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but not nearly as annoyed as he usually could be. When they finally arrived, half of the movie was over. Keith was ready for a flurry of popcorn to be thrown his way, that’s the case whenever Keith arrived late to anything movie related (it took Shiro a lot of nagging to force Keith to join the group). Rather though, the two were met with welcomed looks, Pidge patting a spot between her and Lance, and alternate Hunk waving his hand in the air for alternate Lance. They sat, the two being explained by the people next to each other what happened so far in the movie. It was a horror movie, typical of Keith and alternate Pidge to pick from the pile of altean movies. It was a nice break from the angst of earlier, and after the garrison trio times two screamed at several different parts while Allura and Keith watched avidly and the Shiro’s enjoyed the scene in front of them of their teammates. At one point Lance shrieked and threw the whole bucket of popcorn on Keith and Pidge, the two groaning over the mess. Keith went so far as to flick popcorn at him, saying it wasn’t that much of a jumpscare. Lance, of course, claimed it was traumatic and proceed to hide under the blanket he retrieved earlier. Keith wasn’t sorry when he grabbed Lance’s side at a particular suspenseful and scary part, the boy screaming as if he were the one being murdered. Keith couldn’t help but let out a big, freeing laugh, teeth showing and cheeks red with amusement. Lance glared at him, but internally he marvelled at Keith’s big smile. It was like looking at the sun--bright and blinding. 

Eventually they put on a less stressful movie--a romantic comedy, courtesy of both the alternate and original Hunk and Lance. It was a way of getting rid of potential nightmares, they said. But as the night grew on, the group began to nod off one by one. Pidge fell asleep on Keith’s shoulder, glasses sliding off her nose. Alternate Pidge was laying at Keith’s feet, her back and head leaning against his tall legs, as well as his reality’s Allura. Lance, on the other hand, had initially fallen asleep on his other shoulder, but slid to his lap, quiet snores coming escaping his slumbering state. Keith couldn’t help but run his fingers through his hair, prompting Lance to fall into a deeper sleep. Alternate Hunk had curled up into a ball on the floor, Keith’s Hunk splayed himself to the side of Lance, his arms hanging off the couch and happy talk escaping his mouth from time to time. Keith was 90% sure one of the words had to do with Shay and wooing the rock alien.

Alternate Shiro, who was next to Hunk, fell asleep on his metal arm and the other Shiro was still awake. Keith wasn’t sure where alternate Allura was, she hadn’t been around the entire movie. Alternate Matt had conked out long ago, the lines under his eyes indicating he had been void of rest for a long period of time and this was the first in a while. Keith himself was tired. He struggled to keep his eyes open, the warmth of Pidge and Lance making him enter a state of relaxation and safety. He didn’t know when, but at one point he did black out, waking up to the sound of distant yelling. He had laid his head on Pidge’s for 30 minutes when the sound reached him. Somewhat worried, he gingerly got up, lifting Lance’s head with one hand and the other cradling Pidge’s, making sure to set them down as gently as he could without rustling them into consciousness. The same was done to Allura and alternate Pidge, alternate Pidge reaching out with her hand to grasp the hem of Keith’s leg. Keith thought for sure he had woken her up until he saw her still letting out tiny snores. He had reached down and unlaced her fingers from his pant leg, not forgetting to ruffle her hair after. 

As he approaches the area where the noise was coming from, which is the Lion’s hangar, he distinctly could make out Allura’s voice, accompanied by a nervous Coran. Keith decides to peek around the corner, not completely sure if he should be seen.

“Thank you, Kolivan, for your services.” Allura says coolly. “It is no longer required. Coran will direct you to your ship.”

“Princess...” Coran exclaims, worry etch in his tone.

Allura raises her hand at Coran, telling him to cease. “If anything else goes awry we will contact you. “

“Princess Allura,” Kolivan starts, remaining in his place across from her. “I know you think ill of me since the kit’s--”

“Keith.” Allura icily corrects.

“Since Keith’s exit, but I must advise you against this plan you have sorted out. It is of high risk, and can lead to--”

“Enough!” She shouts, glaring daggers. If looks could kill, Kolivan would have been dead five minutes ago. Coran’s eyes widen, not expecting such an outburst to come from the level headed altean. Allura has always been good at keeping any semblance of frustration or anger at bay. As of now, however, that little known fact evaporated.

“First, you refer to Keith’s death as him merely stepping out of the equation. He did not simply left the castle--he died. He was killed. There is no turning back. Second, the plan has already been set in stone. We do not need a potential casualty among the blade members. You are skilled in your profession, that is why you guide your troops. However I actually take into consideration of losses and ways of avoiding them.”

Kolivan did not bat an eye at Allura’s hostility, as if he expected it in the first place and anything other than that would have been foreign. “I sense there is more to your resistance than you lead on. Please understand I speak from a place of logicality and care.”

Allura narrows her eyes. “Logicality. Then what do you call the mantra ‘knowledge or death’?”

“It is derived from the Galran empire saying ‘victory or death’. We are galra; numerous and outstanding. We put the mission first, princess. To whatever means necessary to prevent the Galra empire from advancing in their tactics.”

“That,” She says in a scarily soft voice. “Is not what I meant. Do you feel, Kolivan? For anyone who has any semblance of emotional connect do whatever they can to protect their soldiers. To bring them home to their families. Tell me, do you ache?”

As she spoke, she had walked closer to the tall Blade leader, towered yet matching his ferocity with her unblinking, unphased eyes. She refuses to waver, facing a lifetime of suffering she practically dared Kolivan to intimidate her. But the Blade member’s objective was not to terrify into submission, but to analyze the young Altean’s body language; the wheels turning around in her head, trying to find the puzzle piece that would connect between the hidden sorrow and rage. 

It did not take long for him to connect the dots. “You blame me for Keith’s demise.”

Allura, stone and unyielding, winces at Kolivan’s blunt words. But did not back down, speaking through her teeth. “Your way of thinking is the reason I cannot trust you. Not fully.”

He stays silent.

“I’ve lost my father to Zarkon. Everyone here lost a friend, a brother, a family member. Except this time it was not by Zarkon, but you. You who I trusted with my soldier. My family. I will not let you or any other  _ galra _ rip away another person I care about. Knowledge or Death may be your way of living, but it is not voltron’s way of doing things.” 

She turns away from him, setting forth to her bed chambers.

“I cannot say enough how sorry I am for the kit. I did not protect him in the end when I should have, and you are in the right for your distrust.”

“It is not just about Keith,” Allura replies, back to Kolivan still. “But also your soldiers. How many more Keith’s must die before you take into consideration of the lives you hold in your hands?” She finally turns to him, her side profile staring deep into his soul. “We are not the only family grieving.”

Kolivan only nodded and Coran, unable to look him in the eyes, led him to his ship. The sound of engines are heard in the distance, then a silence fell upon the hangar, the hum of the lions being the only indication of life. 

Keith is one to stay out of situations. He does speak his mind, but he has not made it his goal to make situations worse. Or to bring up another topic all together and cause a fight. But right now, this is about him. This is about his friends, and this is about his lineage. He understands where Allura is coming from, her natural distrust in the Galra. But the conversation he just heard is a setback from all of their progress--her progress in acceptance. He may not be alive in this reality, but he is present for the time being. 

With ease, he steps away from the wall and enters the hangars. 

“Allura.” He calls.

Allura whips around, not expecting anyone else to come in, believing all the paladins were busy watching movies and stuffing their faces. Alternate Allura had to go so far as to push her counterpart to join the others, explaining how she should spend as much time with them as she can. 

“Oh! Keith, what are you doing here?” She asks, unaware of his eavesdropping. “I thought you would be with the others.”

“I was. They fell asleep halfway through the second movie.” He replies, fondness dipping into his voice. “I heard yelling.”

“Oh.” A guarded expression built up. “Yes. Well, we were having a...disagreement.”

Not a lie. “I see.”

“But the lions are ready for take off.” She quickly adds, changing the subject. “Their quintessence is back in action, we are just double checking if there is anything we missed.”

“We will be going home.”

“Correct.”

Keith treads carefully with what he is about to say.

“I overheard your conversation with Kolivan.” He remains casual, refraining from sounding accusatory to the princess. He wants no ill will between the two, not after today and it being his last night with the alternate team. He wants to leave on a good note--or as close to a good note as he can get. 

However his casual tone was in vain, for Allura tensed, her stature growing defensive. 

“And?” 

“I know you blame Kolivan for...um...” Keith motions to himself, not quite sure if he should be as blunt as he has been. The day had already been filled with death.

Allura stares at him, her lips pursed and brow drawn into a grimace. She searches his face, roaming over each crevice and dip of his bone structure, leaving his indigo eyes last in order to prolong the inevitable. Keith waits for a response, not wishing to pressure her into responding rashly. Which is ironic for Keith to think, he is more impulse rather than patient. Maybe it’s his exhaustion, maybe it’s the strain of this reality and how it revolved around solely him. Either way, his temper and push for the truth is at a stable level, something Shiro would be thanking the heavens for. 

When she did speak, it is controlled; clear and thorough.

“The Blade and I have been at odds for some time. I’m afraid tonight was the boiling point for me. The death toll of Blade members have increased, and while it isn’t necessarily my business, let alone concern, I can’t help but...be reminded of what happened to you.” She closes her eyes. “What is happening...it’s barbaric.”

“Allura, I know it’s hard. But you need to trust Kolivan,” He reasons. “He wants peace as much as you do. To take down Zarkon. He isn’t your enemy.”

“So you support him sending his soldiers to die?” She asks, flabbergasted. “They have families, Keith. A wife, husband, son or daughter, mother and father. He has a noble cause, but the foundation of which the Blade has been built on is toxic.”

“I don’t support the death of soldiers,” Keith counters, a frown maring his features. “But Kolivan and the Blade members understand the conditions of taking part in this war. Whether he tries to save everyone or not, there is going to be sacrifice.”

“The only sacrifice we had to make was--” She stops, realizing where her statement was going. Yes, they made a sacrifice. Allura wants no more blood on her hands. She does not want to wake up in the mornings, coated in scarlet from head to toe as she tried to blink away the illusion of the truth. She remembers her first night after Keith’s death, screaming for Coran after her cruel dreams hung her father and Keith before her very eyes, drenched in body scars and blood. Them, reaching out to her and asking for her to get them down. Asking why she did it, why she killed them. Their mangled, outstretched hand inches away from her face, coaxing her to fix what she caused. Their eyes, once full of life and vigor, was scraped out, the only semblance of sight being the dark endless pits. Rivers of crimson coursed from their endless eye sockets, and a gaping hole made a home in their abdomens. 

Said nightmares have decreased over time, but they remain to be burned in Allura’s mind, forever reminding her the fight she dragged the innocent Earthens and the father she had to destroy in the name of survival. 

Not to mention the heartbreak the paladins, especially Lance, is dealing with.

She clears her throat. “I cannot stop him in his handling of the blade members, but I will keep my paladins under a safe umbrella as much as I can.”

“You need to trust him. I understand where you are coming from, but you witnessed first hand how deadly the war with Zarkon can be. You need as much support as you can get.”

“I have the voltron coalition being created. The Blade is an adequate form of intelligence retrieval, but they aren’t the most vital of the alliance.”

Keith growls. “You and I both know that isn’t true. They are the most equipped combat wise; the longest running rebel group spawning from the dawn of Altea’s fall. They have been around for ten thousand years.”

“Yes, and look at where that has gotten them.” says Allura, growing frustrated with Keith’s defense of the Blade. “Low numbers in fighters and the Galran empire cracking down on their involvement.”

“This isn’t about your disdain for death, this is about you using my death to hold a grudge personally and putting the entirety of voltron on the line!” Keith snaps. He didn’t want to lose his temper on Allura, she is hurting just as much as the others. But with the struggle to work together with the blade leader and potentially put the paladin’s lives at stake due to her refusal to cooperate, he let his temper get the better of him. Allura’s eyes grew wide, her mouth hanging agape and hurt flashing through her calm. 

Keith, overcome by guilt, apologizes for the outburst. 

“Sorry, sorry. I...Today has been a lot. I didn’t mean to yell.” He scratches his neck, nervous for how the conversation was going to turn. This is why he isn’t a people person.

“Allura. You are one of the most determined paladins to end the war and restore peace to all the planets enslaved by the Galra empire. You have been fighting since the moment you woke up from your cryogenic state. You have a big heart and are strong-willed. But you also have a strong hatred towards the Galra.”

“Keith--”

“I get it. I do. When you began to hate me for who I am, I didn’t blame you. The...uh...finding out wasn’t fun for me either.” He mumbles, crossing his arms as a way to ground himself from discussing a part of the past he would much rather forget. “But you made a call based on your personal history with the Galra then, and you’re doing it again now. You can’t--you can’t assume Kolivan isn’t suffering either. You were there when Antok was killed, weren’t you?”

She looks down at the ground, her expression sad. “Yes. I can perfectly remember Kolivan’s scream when it happened.”

“Exactly. Kolivan screamed for his friend; his colleague. We don’t know much about him, but what if that was his brother? Son, maybe? Lover even. You are mourning, but so is he. Like you, he has to be the rock for the Blades, or else it will fall apart if he loses control. It isn’t that he wants to lose his brethren and doesn’t care, it’s the fact he has to emotionally turn himself off to get themselves through to the next goal. You don’t know how many deaths he could be shouldering.”

“What about the Blade’s mantra? Knowledge or death? Keith, even you must admit that isn’t in the least bit good. Nothing is worth more than a life.”

“Maybe not. But you speak from experience, don’t you?” He replies, giving her a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“When you got captured by Zarkon and his witch. You threw your life away for Shiro and Voltron.”

“That is different--”

“Then how is my sacrifice an anomaly?” He interrupts. He threw his arms out, motioning to not the hangar but the universe. “My reality, your reality, it doesn’t matter. It isn’t a matter of worth, Allura. It is a matter of what gives us the best odds to win! I gave up my life for your survival, not for you to throw it all away. If you were in my position you would have done the same, just as you did with Shiro all those missions ago.”

“It’s different because I feel responsible!”  She explodes, tears filling her eyes, yet never truly being let go. She had an arm close to her chest, her hand in a firm grasp as a way of keeping a semblance of control on her predicament. Her grimace deepens, the cool depths of her eyes turning fiery. “I am angry at Kolivan, but also at myself. My hands...they are bathed in blood. Yours and my father’s. The Alteans. The rebels we lost from the ion cannon.” She looks to her hands, displayed flat and clean. Her hands tremble, not instantly noticeable unless you were staring closely. “I guess some of my animosity stems from myself, though you are right about my...Galra bias. We Alteans do not think as you and Kolivan do, despite our actions. We save others; protect them and try to put their lives first before ours. That is what I’m supposed to do as a princess; a leader and heart of Voltron. But I cannot even do that. I didn’t protect a piece of my family, I couldn’t do anything. And to come to find out the type of mentality the Blade’s hold, as well as how I let you stay with them...I do not know who I am more angry at. Kolivan or myself.” She closes her eyes, putting her hands down. “I’m sorry I failed you, Keith. I brought you into this war and you paid a heavy price for it.”

He stares at her for a long moment, processing all she had said. Turns out it isn’t only Lance with these thoughts, it is Allura as well. It wouldn’t be that far of a stretch for the rest of the team to be on the same level of thinking. Which irks him. He isn’t mad at them, he is mad at the entire situation; seething over the mess not only he caused, but the war itself. Maybe this is why they entered this reality. Maybe this is the reality where he can help start the healing process for the team. 

So his first instinct is to reach up and, as if she were a little sister despite being 10,000 years older than him, pats her head affectionately. Distracted by such action, Allura gazes up at him, questionable over his strange human ways. 

“Listen. No one here knows what they are doing. We are going off blind instinct, with a side of hope and recklessness. Me, all I know is how to fly and hand to hand combat. You’re going to lose people; you’re going to struggle and bang your head against the wall because nothing is 100% fair in this long battle. What is important is you don’t lose sight of what your goal is. Work with the Blade. Pilot your lion. Continue to lead them, whether it is during a time of turmoil or ease.” He gives her a kind smile. “You say you see my blood on your hands, as well as the others who have been lost. That blood isn’t on you, it is Zarkon and his troops. Don’t think of us as blood; think of us as out of commission. We can’t fight anymore, our time is done. But you are still in the fight. Let us be the reason you fight, not the reason you give up.”  
“Do you think that is what Kolivan is doing? Using the deaths of his comrades as a reason to fight?”

“I know it would be mine.”

“Hmm...” Allura returns a smile, though it is small and barely makes smile lines, it is genuine and sweet. “I will contact Kolivan later and apologize. I’m sure it would ease Coran. Looks like Shiro has rubbed off on you, hasn’t he?”

Keith shrugs. “I think your reality is the one at fault.”

“Whatever do you mean?” She asks, a quirked eyebrow.

He shakes his head. “You all...have been different since my absence.”

“What do you expect? We were your friends. And Lance, well...you already know, don’t you?”

He nods, morose. “I do.” Keith looks in the direction of the red lion, its ruby armor peeking out from the side, a reminder of who is to pilot it for the remainder of the war. “Allura, can I ask you something?”

“Anything within my power. What is it?”

He motions for her to step closer. In a hushed tone, he whispers what he wishes from her, careful and smooth, not once hesitating in his request. Allura’s aquamarine eyes widen, horrified lines appearing underneath the rim of her waterline. When they pulled apart, Allura tried to reject the request, but Keith shook his head, exclaiming how it may become necessary in the very near future. 

Without hesitation, Allura embraces Keith, wrapping her muscled, lean arms around his middle. The young raven haired boy reciprocates, knowing well how it is the only kind of comfort he could provide for the request.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

After their discussion, Allura and Keith awakened the paladins, suggesting for them to move their exhausted bodies to a more comfortable area of the castle. They each got up with a grumble, mostly about how they were having good dreams. Alternate and Keith’s Pidge mumbled about it being against the rules, but nevertheless hugged Keith goodnight and left. Lance, who had awaken as soon as his body fell into the place where Keith sat, wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and tiredly took Keith’s arm, guiding him to their section of the castle. Keith wondered if he was fully conscious to realize what he was asking, Keith going so far as to state his room is a little farther and can walk himself. Lance just grumbled a “No” and pointed with his index finger to lay down. Figuring Lance was still coping with his other half’s predicament and glum reality of the universe, obliged at the suggestion.

Lance laid right next to him, hogging the blankets. He laid his head on Keith’s chest, mumbling how he was warm and how he could hear his steady heartbeat. 

Keith was not tired, but he wasn’t going to ruin Lance’s night with said fact. So, he laid there, twirling Lance’s hair in his fingers as he thought to himself, counting the minutes down before he knew for certain Lance was in a deep sleep. 

As soon as Lance begun to snore softly, Keith gingerly lifted himself up, keeping a hand on Lance’s head as to not arouse him awake. When Lance stirred, Keith thought for sure he was caught, afraid he would have to answer a slew of questions and calm down the boy’s fast assumptions. He would be losing valuable time; time he cannot waste no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to indulge in spending a night with Lance, just two boys curled up together in a safe space. Away from danger, away from pain and despair. 

But despite his heart screaming not to go, he listened to his gut and head. With care he slowly moved Lance’s blanket over his shoulder, it slipping off as Keith was getting out of bed. 

He really didn’t want to leave. Why out of all nights did it have to be tonight? And why did Lotor only give them two quintant? It couldn’t be something reasonable, like a week or so. Enough time to spend with each alternate paladin, enough time to get this mission done effectively. 

He cursed the universe for toying with his friends and emotions.

“Sleep well.” Keith said in a shaky hushed voice. “I will try to return.

With gloved, gentle fingers, he moved Lance’s haphazard bangs out of his face, a ghost of a smile appearing on Lance’s lips at the touch.

Seeing as it was now or never, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lance’s cheek, ignoring the sting of his eyes and the future that awaited him. 

With heavy footsteps, he exit the room, the shackles of what he is about to do weighing on his mind, snarling what he hated most:

_ Liar. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so so so difficult, especially since I don't know how Keith and Allura would discuss such sensitive issues 100%. I hope i didn't butcher them. I WILL cry uGH writing is hard.
> 
> Please leave comments/kudos! 
> 
> Next chapter: the climax. AKA shit goes awry.


	7. Repeating History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan. That is all. Good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say how much I fucking hate action scenes bc I HATE THEM. UGH. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF. *cries*  
> Please have mercy upon my soul when it comes to my writing I am TRYING

As soon as he had left the room Keith let himself feel. With a heavy heart he slid to the floor, staring up at the opposite wall, unseeing and ashamed. He knows what he has to do, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Ever since their conversation in Keith’s room Shiro has been constantly asking if he was sure of his decision. Keith had answered with a confident “yes”, but now, after he had faced his literal grave, saw the outcome of his loss through both his and alternate Lance, as well as the rest of the team throughout his stay, he is getting cold feet.   
What if his reality is not much different from this reality? What if the only difference is he was granted an extended lifetime that expires at this very point?

Keith had lived out his life believing he had no real purpose; that he was meant to live and struggle up until the day he died, possibly alone and unmourned. 

Yet here he is, trembling at the mere thought of ending up on the other side of a blade. 

He made a promise. He swore to Lance he would stay with him and be less reckless. Keith himself wants to be less reckless, he cares about the team and cannot bare hurting them a second time all because of his impulsivity. But there is no way he can avoid reckless behavior with this plan. He made a commitment, he has to stick to it. The discussion alternate Shiro and Keith had already set in stone Keith’s future, and he would be damned before being left out of the fray. His involvement is for the good of the team, and if all goes according to plan A, then everyone’s life would be at less of a risk.

If they move on to plan B...well, his and everyone’s future would be muddled. 

Keith took another shaky breath, his thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of his nose to distract him from the burning sensation behind his eyelids. Now is not the time to get emotional. Shut them off for now. He has a mission to attend to.

Shoving his minor panic deep within his mind, he stood up to change into his armor. But something solid taps against his chest, stopping him mid-step.

Looking down he recognizes the concealed glow of the necklace Lance gave him. He held it up to his face, examining it as if it could answer the racing questions zooming around in his mind.

Right. He can’t wear it to where he is going. He would hate to lose it during the mission--who knows how long it took the citizens of the Balmera to shape the artifact. Its straight edges points downwards into a crystal formation, the blue beckoning brightly among the darkness of the halway, banishing all shadows within its vicinity. 

Keith slips it off his neck and, with faint and mindful footsteps, re-enters Lance’s quarters. Lance is still fast asleep, his arms still splayed about where Keith should be. Keith does not know if his deep sleep is considered a blessing or a curse.

Seeing a hook by his bedside where Lance hung his jacket, he encircles the Altean plastic with the thin silver lining.

He internally prays he would be back before Lance notices the birthday gift returned to the giver. Please, if there is a God out there, don’t let Keith hurt him like he did in the reality they unfortunately experienced. 

He takes a moment to think back to Lance’s expression when the gift was given; surprised and bashful, yet relieved it spoke a language Keith understood. While Lance tried to hide it, Keith saw the smile he hid when he ducked his head, a light blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. It warmed Keith’s heart, making him think maybe, just maybe he has a chance.

But that chance may never come of the odds are not in his favor.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. No, he will make it. He will come back, and when he does he will take his necklace and confess to Lance everything he has been feeling since their first mission together. Since they first bonded, despite Lance claiming he does not remember. But more importantly, he will keep him and the rest of the team safe. Keith has lost so much already. He will do whatever it takes to keep their future--their reality--bright and flourishing. 

Swelling with a new bout of confidence, Keith left the room, voluntarily walking into the jaws of the beast waiting for him. 

\------------------------------------------------------------

It is a damn good thing Keith isn’t scared of heights.

The ship hangar is quiet. The hum of the lions break through the empty air, disguising the small pitfalls of Keith’s boots on the steel lining of the ceiling. He grips the firm metal, carefully ducking behind a bar as the doors below him woosh open. He kept close to the shadows, his mask firmly in place and their glow dull to a dark violet. So long as no one looked up he should be okay. His suit is as inconspicuous as he could make it without actually breaking the glass and wiring imbedded throughout the suit. He grips his knife at his side in case, awaiting any sign of recognition upon searching the area. As well as a small vial filled with a clear substance and a pointed end.

As he peaks from the side of the steel barrier, he saw white tufts of hair accompanied by a dark undercut emerge from the opening. Alternate Shiro looks around the area, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He scans the area one by one, searching for an invisible spy only he could see. The one area he left untouched is the ceiling above him, shrouded in the underworld’s choice of concealment. 

He looks up and makes eye contact with Keith.

In any other situation Keith would have taken that as a go and attack the perpetrator, leaving them no time to call for backup, let alone defend themselves in the flurry of his quick actions. All he did, however, was stare back down at alternate Shiro. He raises a thumb up, requesting confirmation on Keith’s station, along with his combat status. Keith acknowledges alternate Shiro with a thumbs up as well, indicating he is set for plan A. Alternate Shiro nods, then turns back to the doors as they flew open once again, prompting Keith to go back to his previous station of hiding. 

The second visitor is none other than Shiro from Keith’s reality, dressed in the casual attire the team gave him when he was saved from a malfunctioning escape pod. That meant he didn’t expect anything out of the ordinary. A good sign, but not necessarily a safe one. He could have figured out their suspicions and wanted to catch them off guard. With or without proper protection, he is still armed by his prosthetic Galran weaponry. Keith hopes everything goes smoothly, or else his weariness would not be in vain. He never likes being wrong, but in this case he will hold an exception.

Keith is especially still as the two greets one another, paying close attention to the exchange for his cue. 

“Allura told me you’d be down here.” Shiro says to the alternate Shiro, concerned and unsuspecting. “Is there something wrong?”

Alternate Shiro waves his hand in the air dismissively. “Nothing detrimental. There has been no sight of Lotor or the galra, we are safe for the moment.”

“Shiro crosses his arms. “Okay, then what is this about?”

“It’s about Keith.” Alternate Shiro’s eyes turn icy, void of the blessed warmth the paladins had grown accustomed to. “It has been bothering me since you all arrived.”

He levels his gaze with the alternate Shiro, any indication of what he could be talking about flying over his head. “I see. Is it about his presence? We all are very much aware of the...circumstance your team is under.”

Alternate Shiro shook his head, the frown remaining in place. “No, not that. If anything, his presence has been more like a gift. We never did get the chance to talk to him after his departure in our reality.” A small smile appears on his lips for a moment, reminiscent of both the past and recent events. He is eternally grateful for the chance to touch and interact with his little brother again. If only it could last as long as a lifetime.

He clears his throat. “It has to do with what you said at the graveyard.”

“The graveyard--oh.” Shiro scratches his neck, nervous. “You mean the exchange between Keith and I.”

“Yes. I bring it up because there is something you said that worried me.”

Shiro motions for him to continue, wishing for details rather than assuming what part of the conversation his other self could be referring to. Reading his stare as a push to continue, alternate Shiro lead on to what has been eating at him.

“You said to him it was a necessary evil. That war is not without sacrifice, and how he is a hero.”

“He is.” Shiro says, immediately defensive. “Are you saying he isn’t? Because without him you all would be dead.”

“That isn’t what I’m arguing against.” Alternate Shiro corrects, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He is a master of patience, but with the given situation, alternate Shiro is antsy, and just a little bit angry. “What I’m arguing against is your push for sacrifice. You do realize he takes everything you say to heart, correct? Calling him a hero and expecting such circumstances is practically giving him a bomb and telling him to detonate himself for the greater good.”

“Because it is true.” Shiro counters, not accepting alternate Shiro’s opposing view. “You and I both know peace does not come without a price. I do not want him dead, but I’m not going to tell him unfortunate options are off the table. Victory is not without a few losses.”

“A  _ few _ ? I don’t know about your reality, but we lost more than a few. You make it sound as if a couple ants were stomped on rather than a whole slew of rebels murdered by an ion cannon.”

“I’m you from another universe, I think as you do. I’m not saying it’s right. I’m just saying it happens.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?” Shiro questions, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

Alternate Shiro stares him down, the ice breaking away into steel. “Are you really me? Because I can hardly believe I would be having this conversation with myself if we are the same.”

Shiro shook his head. He could not believe what he is hearing. From himself, of all people. “I am you. Alternate realities leave room for differences--maybe I am similar to you, but not a carbon copy when it comes to war tactics and ideology.”

“Maybe,” says alternate Shiro, crossing his arms in thought and looking at the pale tiles beneath his feet. “Maybe that is the case and I’m jumping to conclusions. Or...” He trails off, choosing his words carefully.

“Or?” His counterpart pushes.

“Or,” He begins, weighing the outcome of his thoughts. Now is the time of judgement. The moment where alternate Shiro and Keith may prove their assumptions and follow through with plan A, or everything goes to absolute shit. “ You are a clone.”

Shiro’s eyes widen, overtaken by shock and horror. The cool confidence he displayed not too long ago shatters in an instant, his body going still. He opens and closes his mouth, searching for words that refuse to form into speech. He is paralyzed, stabbed by a ludicrous accusation that he could not decide whether he should laugh from the insanity, or simply leave the situation. Him? A clone? No, it doesn’t make any sense. He is Shiro, he has always been Shiro. The aging memories of the garrison, the budding sibling relationship between him and Keith, the sudden thrust into an ancient war raging for 10,000 years, the black lion trusting him in a time of crisis...He had to be Shiro. 

For if he is not, then what is his purpose, and who is the puppeteer?

“A...clone.” Shiro slowly repeats, letting the word roll off his tongue in caution. “You think I’m a clone? That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible.” Alternate Shiro states matter of factly. “I may not come from your world, but I know how I think. And I would never allow Keith’s growing way of thinking. Voltron is about saving lives, not ending them.”

“I am not a clone,” the accused Shiro proclaims. “I am Takashi Shirogane, pilot of the black lion and former garrison official. I was captured by the galra for a year and managed to escape to Earth. I have not once worked with galra of my own free will. If I were a clone wouldn’t I have done something to the team already?”

“You haven’t. Yet.”

“There is no ‘yet’. It isn’t going to happen because I AM the real Shiro.”

Keith is getting worried. Shiro is worked up. His defenses are on high alert judging by his stiff posture and his eyes scanning the area every few seconds, wondering if alternate Shiro is planning a sort of assault. While he doesn’t have a reason not to be on alert, it makes Keith’s job difficult. He makes one wrong move he is bound to notice, and if he doesn’t time it right, then plan B would be a go. Keith does not want to use plan B. It is much more messy. Potentially harmful and a 50% fatality rate judging based off Shiro’s reaction time. Right now, all his walls are up. So the percentage of success has lowered significantly.

Alternate Shiro needs to diffuse the situation. Or at the very least distract him enough that his back is left open. If Keith can get a full open view of his back, their chances of success increases. 

Alternate Shiro must have thought the same thing, for he hums in thought and moves towards the black lion. The suspected clone follows him, the two passing by the scaffold Keith blends into, his footfalls remaining obsolete in noise as he twists his body away from any semblance of being seen. Shiro’s back faced him, a perfect angle for Keith to strike. He just needs to wait for alternate Shiro’s cue.

“You aren’t much different from me. You speak like me, walk like me, even pilot the lion like me. So maybe you are right and I am making brash assumptions.” Alternate Shiro turns back to him, tall and challenging. “Tell me. What is the number the Galra assigned you when they captured you?”

“When I first got captured it was 117-9875. But...” Shiro frowns, confusion wavering the confidence he previously displayed. “But...they gave me a new one when they were checking up on me the second time I was captured...Y0XE39”

Shiro, noticing the distress and confusion, drops his cold gaze in favor of relatable sympathy. “Another number. They wouldn’t have given you that if--”

“If I weren’t a clone.” Clone Shiro finishes. “No...No this can’t be right. I know who I am. I’m--” He stops, everything he was about to say dying in a single moment and the reality of who he is crashing all around him. He lifts his hands up and stares at them, the cool metallic of his galra arm shining in the light, his horrified reflection glaring back at him in all its mocking glory. He...is a clone. He is part of the race that destroyed so many planets, so many lives. He is supposed to be someone vying for peace and to protect his soldiers--his friends--in any way he can. But his existence alone is a threat? Even if he denies this new found revelation, he cannot shake away the new number, his mysterious manifestation in the Galra’s hand yet again, and the...growing headache he has had since being rescued by Keith. 

“How...What makes you so sure I’m a clone? They could have just given me a new number to prevent Pidge from gaining any clue to my whereabouts.”

The clone himself wasn’t convince with his reaching argument. He might as well be grasping at straws at this point.

Alternate Shiro just looks at him sadly. “Because we had a clone in our reality as well. The only reason I’m here and he isn’t is because we figured it out ahead of time. I was with Matt when Pidge found him. The rest you can guess.”

His head...It is worsening. A sharp pain stabs his cranium and Shiro has to resist flinching from the assault. 

“I am the real Shiro. All you have stated is just speculation.”

“Then explain the new code.” Alternate Shiro pushes, his patience running thin. “Explain how your hair was well past your shoulders after a month of missing. Elaborate on how you are the real Shiro despite the legit one standing right in front of you, not approving of your way of handling Keith.”

“We are from another reality--”

“That,” Alternate Shiro began quietly. “Does not count. Because the clone here spoke the same way as you did. I would never praise Keith for almost sacrificing himself. Not in this reality, and not in yours.”

Shiro couldn’t hold back anymore. His head felt as if someone took a blade and sliced right in the middle of it, blooming crimson agony. He bent down and clutches his head, his face scrunching up into a pained scowl. The small pounding cranks into high gear, a sledgehammer hitting the sides of his cranium with such force he could hardly stand. He doesn’t understand what is happening to him, the pain has never felt like this before. A little ringing here and there, some small pangs, but never this excruciating. He couldn’t be bothered with continuing the exchange with his counterpart, not when he was internally being split in two.   
A feminine voice began to speak to him through the haze of red. It is scratchy, as if the voice were speaking through a garbage disposal, the sentences choppy and garbled. He fought the strange voice, the allure and pull of it vying for his attention. It yanks at his brain, demanding to be acknowledged; demanding an audience no matter the refusal. It swirls around him, a never ending cycle of “given in” and “Do as I say” pushing to the surface. It dug its nails into him, ripping away any semblance of control from his grasp and vying for one thing: _Kill them_.

While the clone is in his own pain induced world, alternate Shiro flickers his eyes up at where Keith is, telling him with his gaze to seize the moment now.

Without hesitation, he left the shadows and jumps off the beam, a syringe in one hand containing a liquid meant to knock him out for an extended period of time. Allura said it was enough to keep him asleep for up to three days since the toxins were powerful enough to affect an individual by simply smelling it. Implanting it into the bloodstream induces an intense reaction, giving them enough time to put him in a cryogenic sleep without a fight when they arrive home. Neither Keith or Shiro were comfortable with the thought of killing the clone. He is dangerous, but even he was not aware he is a clone. His reaction to the news is proof enough.

Keith was about ready to impale Shiro with the syringe when out of nowhere, the clone whips around and snatches his arm in midair, a stunned Keith hanging from his grasp. The clone was no longer distracted by a random headache. He is looking Keith dead in the eye, the grey of his eyes consumed by an angry red hue. 

Before Keith could do anything, the clone lifts his arm and chucks him across the room, Keith making contact with one of the lions in a sickening smack. 

“Keith!” Alternate Shiro calls out. The clone veers towards him, prompting alternate Shiro to activate his galra arm. He glares up at the clone, no longer merciful. But before he could swipe at the other, the clone uppercut his face, and explosion of pain erupting from the spot as he fell. He is then lifted by the scruff of his suit, the clone void of all emotion as he places his metal hand over alternate Shiro’s neck and began to squeeze. It glows with a sinister violet, the heat of the palms slowly burning his flesh. 

Just then a flash of green and pink came whirling towards the attacker, the green bayard circling around the metal hand and yanking him away from alternate Shiro. The pink whip wraps around the other hand, restraining the clone from anymore harm. Alternate Shiro fell to the floor, gasping and clutching at his throat.

“Plan B it is.” He says hoarsely. He got up and ran to Keith, who is still on the floor, unmoving.

“Keith? Keith! Wake up.” He calls. The ex red paladin stirs, groggily moving his head.

“Ugh...” He mumbles unintelligently. “I underestimated him.”

“So did I. Can you stand?”

Keith nods, alternate Shiro helping him up by keeping him steady by his elbows. Keith shook his head slightly, willing the whiplash to dissipate.

“Plan B?”

“Plan B. Allura and Pidge has him.”

“Hate to break up the bromance!” Alternate Pidge yells. “But we need a little help!” 

Alternate Pidge and Allura were hoisting the clone up over the green lion. They kept him in midair, but it the two were quick to show their struggle as he fought against his restraints, their arms shaking with instability.

“He is resisting with incredible strength!” Allura calls. “Hunk, Lance, Shiro.  Now!”

Alternate Hunk and alternate Lance emerges from behind the blue lion with a rope, Shiro tailing them as soon as he was sure Keith would be okay. 

“Woah there Mr. temper tantrum,” alternate Lance quips. “No need to kick and scream.”

“Laaaaance,” alternate Hunk admonishes. “Don’t tempt him to kill us more than he already does.”

“Boo.”

The two wraps the rope around clone Shiro fast, alternate Shiro having to hold him down in a firm hold. Alternate Hunk wraps the first rope around the wrists with the help of alternate Allura and alternate Pidge,  while alternate Lance handles the feet. It isn’t easy holding him down. Clone Shiro thrashes and kicks, growling as they try harder to pin him down.

“I don’t think these ropes will hold him.” Alternate Lance exclaims worriedly.

“As long as we can inject the serum into a vein, we should be okay.” Allura says through clenched teeth. “Shiro, do you have the syringe?”

“I do, but--oof---he keeps moving!”

“I can’t get this rope around him, he is thrashing too hard!” Alternate Lance adds through huffs and yelps. He narrowly avoids being kicked in the face, debating why there was such a limit of the serum. He would have injected Shiro already if he had one, but no Allura only had three: one for Keith, Shiro, and herself. Luckily keith’s syringe didn’t break, but he is currently shaking off the whiplash from being thrown across the room.

“Hunk, is the rope secure?” Alternate Pidge asks with a frantic look.

“Almost--Quiznack!” Alternate Hunk lost his hold on the rope, allowing the clone to gain an advantage and rip away from the yellow paladin. Alternate Pidge forced her bayard to send a current of electricity down Shiro’s human arm, however he shows no sign of being bothered and took the rope-like feature of the bayard and flung her against the red lion. Alternate Allura is next to follow, her strength better than Pidge’s, but not strong enough to resist clone Shiro fully. Keith was barely standing up when alternate Allura crashes into him. He had no time to react and catch her. They fell in a pile of pink and purple, both parties overcome with blatant horror as they move to recover. This isn’t good. If they don’t inject him with the serum soon, the entirety of voltron could be at risk. Their lives aren’t just on the line--the entire universe is. While the other team is an option, they have no desire to ruin their chances of survival in their assigned reality. Getting them involved could have drastic consequences. 

Alternate Shiro gave up on restraining the clone and made to stab him with the syringe. But the clone, anticipating his next move, grabs his hand and twists, alternate Shiro crying out as the syringe fell from his grasp. Alternate Lance is kicked away, foot meeting the cartilage of Lance’s nose. Alternate Hunk rounds the corner to aid alternate Shiro, but was met with a fist to his cheek. It was so hard alternate Hunk saw stars, working to stay on his feet and not pass out from the whiplash.

“You think you can get rid of me?” The clone says to alternate Shiro in a sinister, amused voice. “You can’t save them. You couldn’t even save your Keith, what makes you think you can save everyone else?”

The clone rips the syringe from alternate Shiro’s hand and smashes it to the floor, grinding on the glass with the bottom of his foot, decreasing their chances of taking down the clone like they planned. 

Alternate Shiro did not dignify the clone with a response, for alternate Lance retrieves his bayard and shoots the clone’s hand, freeing alternate Shiro. His wrist is broken alright. As long as his galra arm is still in commission though, he should have a chance at taking down the clone with the rest of the team.

Clone Shiro activates his galra arm, the warm indigo slicing the air in rapid strikes as he ventures towards alternate Lance. He dodges and spins, working to keep up with the clone and not end up like sliced salami. Except the more he avoids the clone’s attacks, the less chances he had of landing a shot. He is a distance fighter, not close up and personal like Keith. He continues to shoot, only grazing the clone as he maintains a small distance from his literal burning hand. 

Just then a Marmora blade is launched into the clone’s metal arm and a whip surrounds the clone’s feet, the pink bayard being pulled with such a force that the clone topples over. Alternate Allura, choosing to cause damage rather than restrain him, yanks him off the ground and throws him against the legs of the black lion. Alternate Pidge reacts accordingly, no longer in pain from the harsh landing, and surrounds the clone’s chest and arms with her bayard, increasing the shock to an extremely high voltage. She is done playing games. 

The clone screams from the electricity. He kicks and hollers, his voice smashing through the atmosphere like a wild animal caught in a trap. His arm began to flow a brighter purple, charging to slice his way through the restraints. But Alternate Hunk saw it coming and shoots the shoulder area of his metallic arm with his bayard, no longer Mr. nice guy. 

“Allura, do you have the serum?” Alternate Shiro asks. He is cradling his broken wrist, noting internally he would need Coran to take a look at it. Maybe put him in a healing pod. It was twisted at an odd angle, leaving no room for alternate Shiro to so much as twitch, or else a fiery pain would course throughout his entire arm. 

“Yes I do.” She unclips it from her belt. “I’m surprise it didn’t break.”

“Well you did land on me.” inputs Keith, who is walking towards the group.

Alternate Allura looks at him, apologetic. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a few scrapes and bruises.”

“Good.” She gave him a relieved smile. Alternate Allura taps the glass of the syringe, dissolving any air bubbles that could have formed during the fight. 

“I can assure you this will not harm you,” Alternate Allura says to the watchful clone. “It will only put you to sleep. Hold still.”

She steps closer to the clone, no fear in her eyes except passive acceptance of the situation. It is unfortunate they have not found the real Shiro in their reality. However it is good they caught the clone in time, or else the other team could have ended up in great peril. 

“Ah, princess Allura. I see this reality has been kind to you as well.” Clone Shiro drawls, slow and knowing. An amused smile appears on his face, his body no longer fighting his restraints.

“I suppose.” She says with no emotion. She edged closer with the needle, the fine point about to puncture his skin until he spoke once again.

“Saving your teammates as you wish you did with your entire race. However, I’m afraid even you cannot save them from their destined grave.”

With that a holographic sword manifests on his galra arm and aimed to cut through his restraints with a swift rise. Alternate Pidge’s bayard, unable to be cut, ends up blooming with an intense gleam of electricity. The bayard became overwhelmed by the hit, short circuiting in the end and releases the Clone from her clutches. The electrical current, with no place to go but up, shocks alternate Pidge, emitting a cry from the youngest paladin.

“Pidge!” Allura exclaims, distracted from the clone. Before Alternate Lance and Hunk could do anything, alternate Hunk is snatched by the back of his head and slammed him face first against clone Shiro’s hard plated knee. Alternate Hunk goes down and Lance activates his bayard to shoot. He is seconds too late though, for clone shiro took his formed bayard and rips it out of his hands, throwing it far and leaving him defenseless. He slams alternate Lance’s body against the black lion’s foot twice, blood trickling from his nose and head and unable to see clearly. He did not stay where he is though. Clone Shiro lifted him up in the air and threw his body at Keith and alternate Allura. Alternate Allura, shoved a good distance by the hit of alternate Lance’s body, loses her bayard, allowing the clone to unwrap his feet from the item.

Alternate Shiro, despite one of his arms being out of commission, activates his weapon and charges at the clone, sword and arm slamming into each other  and sparks flying. The sword and fist clashes as they fought, bright magenta coating the air with each hit. Alternate Shiro makes to trip him, but the clone maneuvers away from his swipe. Clone Shiro forms a fist and attempts to punch alternate Shiro, missing when he side steps and ducks from the incoming blade, narrowly avoiding his head being chopped off. Alternate Shiro uppercuts him in the jaw, the clang of teeth ringing in the open air.

Clone Shiro, seeing how alternate Shiro is keeping up with him regardless of his bad hand, decides to play dirty. Keith’s blade is still in his arm, why not put it to good use?

As he defends against another attack from alternate Shiro, he reaches for the protruding Marmora sword. 

All he grabs is nothingness.

He is rocked off balance from a weight on his back. He whips his head around, seeing Keith up on his shoulders with his hands around the hilt of the sword. He yanks it out, puting the opponents from one on one to two versus one. Not very good odds in normal circumstances. But then again, clone Shiro isn’t normal. 

While Keith is preparing to strike, clone Shiro kicks alternate Shiro in the stomach, eliciting a small groan from the man. He turns and stops Keith’s blade from making contact with both his hands stop it in midair, the young boy applying all his muscle into breaking the clone’s hold. He bares his teeth at him, galra fangs gradually appearing with each passing second of his internalized rage. 

“You’ll end up just like your counterpart.” Clone Shiro says with a maniacal grin. 

“I don’t remember you being a fortune teller.” Keith ducks from the swipe of his manifested blade and slices his torso. The clone staggers back, a growl rumbling in his throat from the hit.

“You’re good, but not that good.” He mocks.

“Snap out of it already, we don’t want to hurt you!” Keith begs, pushing away his anger temporarily. 

“Oh I’m all here, Keith. No one in my head but me.” 

“You may be a clone but there can still be good in you. Fight it!” 

“Aw, are you concerned about your friends? Once I’m done with you, your friends are next. Each and every one of them.”

He slowly approaches Keith, the young blade member inching away from him little by little with his sword drawn. Keith is trying to distract him, keep his eyes on Keith while alternate Shiro took the opening with the syringe. If he could just keep his attention, all would not be in vain. Each of the paladins, save for Keith and alternate Shiro, were down for the count. Alternate Pidge is coming into consciousness, but couldn’t move. Alternate Hunk is knocked out cold, alternate Allura is trying to rouse a groggy alternate Lance, who gained one too many head injuries in a short span of time. He may have a concussion, based on how hard clone Shiro had hit him. 

Clone Shiro is getting much closer, the wall behind Keith no longer as far away as it used to be. The clone raises his sword to strike Keith just as alternate Shiro gains the advantage to shove the serum into his neck. 

The clone whirls around and stops the serum from entering his body.

“I thought I taught you better, Keith.” He says, disappointed. 

He took his sword and impales it in alternate Shiro’s shoulder blade, a bloodcurdling scream escaping his lips. 

“No!” Keith yells. The clone yanks out his sword as alternate Shiro falls to the ground, the clone kicking him hard in the stomach.

Keith charges, throwing out all desire to spare the clone and fueled with cold fury. Deep amethyst met with vibrant magenta. Keith swipes, stabs, dodges and thrusts his sword at the clone, attempting to hit a vital part of his body and render him immobile. When the clone’s sword came rushing for his neck, he ran and dove underneath the hot blade, facing the clone’s back and swipe his calves. The clone stumbles, but did not let the hit stop him. He dodges Keith’s next swipe and kicks him off his feet, the boy crashing with a small “oof”. Keith did not have time to relax, for a the magenta blade made a fast approach towards his chest. He lifts his sword to deflect it, narrowly avoiding impalement. 

Clone Shiro’s strength is getting the best of him. Keith is well toned in muscle from training, but he isn’t as strong as Shiro. He pushes his sword against the clone’s, his arms shaking from the long term stress. Keith let out a frustrated growl, the blade inching towards his neck in slow intervals. 

With all his strength, he kicks up into the clone’s abdomen. The clone let out a groan of surprise as Keith is given the opportunity to stab the area where the sword emerges from his hand. The sword went out, no longer a useful asset to the clone. Keith stood up, about to attack again when the clone, filled with rage, dove away from the intended hit and lifted the boy by his armed hand, throwing him as he did the first time, his body rolling as he made a hard landing and lost his sword in the process. 

What’s worse is he hit his head upon impact, his vision tilting as he came to a stop. The clone is hard to beat. He has the same strength as Shiro, with the added galran tactics. It doesn’t help that he is trying not to kill the clone, excluding all his lethal strength he could be using. 

Keith rolls onto his stomach, coughing from the tightness in his chest and the sharp pain coursing through it. He must have broken a rib. Maybe a couple. The hit could rival that of alternate Lance’s concussion. 

He shakily began to pick himself up when, out of the blue, the doors leading to the hallway open.

“Keith? Oh my God, what the hell happened here?”

No. 

No no no. 

No he can’t be here.

He isn’t SUPPOSED to be here. 

Keith turns his head fast towards the voice, the motion almost causing him to topple over from the intensity. There, decked out in blue and white armor, is Lance. His Lance. The Lance from his reality--the one he made sure to keep in the dark about the operation, as well as the others so they wouldn’t get hurt. What the fuck is he doing here? Is he TRYING to get himself killed. 

“Lance...” Keith pushes out, fighting the pain in his ribs as he slowly stood up. “Get...Get out of here.”

“What--” He stops mid sentence, eyes widening. “Keith! Watch out!”

Keith turns around, but not fast enough.

As he tries to register what Lance was warning him about, he felt white hot agony blooming in his abdomen. 

He looks down.

There, protruding from deep within his stomach, is his Marmora blade. 

And the person who wield it is none other than the clone.

\----------------------------------------------

[Come yell at me on tumblr!](https://stardust-and-blades.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :) :) :)
> 
> heeheehee  
> mwahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
> 
> next chapter: pain.
> 
> Please leave a kudos/comment! Let me know how I'm doing, and I love to see your reactions. AGAIN IT IS MY FUEL :P


	8. Hold On, My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternate team and Lance and Keith are trapped, and what makes matters worse, Keith is severely injured. It is up to chance and fate who lives and who dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOAH TWO UPDATES IN THE SAME WEEK? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?  
> It's me being rEADY for this chapter and fueled by the art I commissioned of it. Link to the art pieces down below!  
> I cried while writing this chapter. rip.
> 
> Just a fair warning beforehand: I do not know shit about technology, I don't know if this would be accurate in reality so please, refrain from pointing out flaws bc I already have a bruised ego >_< I also don't know an extensive knowledge on injuries, however I have read it takes like, 30 minutes to bleed out. Or at least lose a significant amount of blood. I apologize for any errors in my writing. Please just sit back and enjoy
> 
> Oh, and I high key suggest you listen to the song "Breathe underwater" by bullet for my valentine. The melody is something I can see playing in a certain emotional scene. As well as "proud of you" by 10 years. :)

Lance had become accustomed to the assigned times of night and day Pidge had calculated based on Earth hours. Since they lived among the stars 24/7, Pidge and Shiro believed it to be a good idea to assign times so the paladins would be able to hold some sort of sleep schedule. They may be in a constant battle with Zarkon and his soldiers, but even evil needs to rest and recuperate. 

So when Lance woke up from a disturbing dream, he was surprised to see Keith no longer occupied the space next to him.

Lance sat up with a groan, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Judging from how tired he is, he had not slept all that long. Maybe three hours. I remembered falling asleep during the second movie, his sleepy self doing without thinking and dragged Keith to his room, still weary of him disappearing and for Lance to wake up he is living a nightmare rather than experiencing it. It’s one thing to witness one of your nightmares manifest in a vulnerable state, it’s another when you visit a reality where your nightmares are as real as his lion. 

While most of the time Lance would be relieved for Keith to be gone in this situation since he mindlessly lead him to his room for a cuddle session and therefore would like to avoid explaining his...uncharacteristically lovable self. Okay, so Lance is a lover boy, but try explaining that to the guy who he declared his rival and then turns around and snuggles up to him. Yeah, THAT will go over well.

Lance facepalmed, shaking his head at his past self for being a moron. Since Keith is gone, that means he must have had enough of Lance’s weird attitude and left as soon as he was in a deep sleep. Keith must have felt very uncomfortable. Or worse, disgusted. He won’t be mean or cruel about it, Lance knows that for sure. He has never been actively viscous to Lance, not even when he kept making fun of him for being a hothead. But he would...distance himself. Probably dodge Lance as much as he is able and keep their exchanges to the point. Lance doesn’t want that. He wants to still joke around with the guy. Maybe he could tell him he mixed him up with Allura?

“How does that make sense, he has black hair and she has white!” Lance yells to himself. He shoves his face into the pillow, screaming to his heart’s content. He should just deny it ever happened, just like he did with the bonding moment.

He flops back onto his side, lines under his eyes and annoyance bubbling in his chest. He was about to try and go back to sleep, wishing to ignore the blaring alarms of his stupid feelings when from the corner of his eye a soothing blue tinged his sight. 

He sat up fast.

The Balmeran necklace he and the other Lance gave him earlier today. It is hanging from the same hook he puts his jacket, the stone contrasting the inky atmosphere of his room. Why did Keith leave it here? He couldn’t have hated it, the smile he gave Lance earlier when he unwrapped it was too genuine. Unless he is a really good actor. To which Lance highly doubts. 

The casual presence of the necklace gave off a sense of wrongness. A stray puzzle piece searching for its place in the picture, but never fitting the scenery no matter how much the piece was pushed in its spot. 

Suspicious and slightly offended, Lance left the room and approaches Keith’s door. He knocks once out of courtesy, a second time out of impatience. The least he could have done is be straight with Lance. He doesn’t like it? Cool, no need to play games with his heart and emotions. He has been rejected before, this wouldn’t be any different. 

Lance taps his foot against the ground, telling himself the reason Keith is taking so long is because he is a deep sleeper and is sluggishly getting out of bed at this very moment. It had been a long, long day filled with tears and laughs. 

As five minutes turn into ten, Lance lost all sense of patience and manners, grumbling to himself about stupid mullethead taking the easy way out. He types out the code to enter his room, the doors opening as soon as he hit the pound button. 

Lance walks in. He scans the room, annoyance morphing into concern. Keith’s bed remained undisturbed, the sheets neatly tucked in and the hook void of the familiar cropped jacket. Did he move to another room by chance? 

Breaking an unwritten rule he is sure exists, he enters the room and opens the drawers, Keith’s grey shirt and black pants sitting in the boxed area, the clothes cool to the touch. That’s weird. Keith is one to sleep in his clothes, most likely to not have approved of the Altean pajamas each of the paladins were given based on their lion’s color scheme. He opens the next drawer and sure enough the crimson and gold fabric sat there, untouched. 

Lance further searches the room, noting his shoes were also here, laying to the side of the door. The only item missing is--

He stops his searching. Wait a second. Casual attire in the drawers. Boots left at the door. His Marmora blade missing, and...

And his Blade of Marmora suit.

Dread digging itself a home in his stomach, Lance sprints to the closet, praying what is missing is stored in the Altean storage compartment and he is walking around in his birthday suit.

He threw open the door and sure enough, the suit is missing.

“Oh no...” Lance says to himself, breathless. Turning quick on his heels, he pockets the necklace and books it to his room.

\---------------------------------------------------

 

“KEITH!” Lance and alternate Shiro screams. Keith stares down at the blade, blood gradually coating the dark metal and staining his suit. He couldn’t react, couldn’t move. All he could do is stare, his bones frozen in time. The clone grins down at him, savoring the horror on both the paladins. He pulls the blade with a wet yank, about to free Keith from the pain when, feeling especially in a good mood, shoves the blade back in with a hard jerk upwards. Keith spasms underneath his grip, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. The team, awake from their injuries, joined Lance in his cry of despair. He bents towards Shiro, wishing to alleviate the excruciating, vibrant ache. His hair fell in his face, beads of sweat dotting his forehead and his hand impulsively grabbing clone Shiro’s arm, a way of begging him to stop.

Entertained to his liking, the clone rips the blade out of Keith’s abdomen and approaches the alternate Shiro, delivering a hard kick to his head. No longer having any semblance of support, he fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. He tries to stand up, tries to clot the crimson liquid with his gloved hand, but it only made for him to throw up more blood. This isn’t how it was supposed to end. Not with Lance watching. Not with the team coming to and staring in abject horror. Wasn’t their reality supposed to be an exception? Isn’t that why he survived in the end? Or is he just meant to die by his own blade?

“No!” Lance runs over to Keith, his eyes bright with panic. He drops down where Keith lies and slides across the floor, foolishly dropping his bayard next to him as he turns Keith on his back. 

“Oh my God...Oh my God Keith...There is so much blood...” He shakily puts a hand on the wound, causing a sharp hiss escape Keith’s throat. He lifts Keith up with his other arm, trying his best not to worsen his injuries.

“L--Lance...” Keith pushes out, barely above a whisper. “You’re not...not supposed to be h--” Keith is interrupted by a coughing fit, his wound sending out another jab up his torso. 

“Shhh. Save your strength.” Lance soothingly brushes the long sweaty tendrils from his eyes, working to quell the absolute terror seizing him. Bleeding out takes up to thirty minutes, but from first look at the damage Shiro inflicted, the time may speed up. If Lance could get Keith to a healing pod now, there is a high chance he can still make it.

“Keep your hand on the wound. Don’t let go.” He instructs the injured boy. He nods, or made a motion similar to a nod. He bends his head down and lifts it by an inch, but that is as far as he went. Lance took his bloody hand away and put it under Keith’s knees, using all his strength to lift him up. 

Keith grunts in pain from the jostle. Lance spews out apologies, ignoring the strain of his muscles. Lance considers himself fit, but he forgot how much muscle Keith packs from his constant training at the castle and at the Blade of Marmora. 

Unfortunately, the clone had other plans. As Lance turns his back on the clone, he throws Keith’s sword at the door’s controls, the system malfunctioning and permanently locking their way out. Lance skids to a stop. Goddamnit! What the Hell is Shiro’s problem? He is supposed to defend them, not trap the other team and send Keith to an early grave. 

“Why are you doing this?” Lance demands. “I thought we were friends! I thought we were on the same team!”

The clone chuckles, sending a chill down Lance’s spine. “You thought wrong, kid. You’re not going anywhere. Not to save Keith, and certainly not back to your reality.”

“Lance,” Keith says softly. “He isn’t Shiro. He’s a clone.”

Lance didn’t look away from the clone. “Okay, good to know. Now stop talking, you need to save your strength.”

“Lance please--”

“I said stop talking.”

“ _ Lance. _ ”

Lance glances down, doing a double take and his face going white. Keith can barely keep his eyes open, his lids gliding over his dull pupils at a slower pace than the one before.  

“I can’t...can’t feel my legs. The blood won’t clot. You need to...” He breathes in again, raspy in a way where if situations were different, Lance would have thought he ran a marathon. “You need to get out. Without me.”

Lance clenches his jaw. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You need to.”

“No!” Lance snaps. “I lost you once, I am not losing you again.”

No longer listening to what Keith had to say, he gently sat Keith down against the doors, activating his bayard. He faces the clone, gun aimed and finger on the trigger. He wants to dance? Okay, Lance will dance. He is getting them out of here if its the last thing he does. He may look like Shiro, and as much as his mind screams for him to not hurt the man, he knows the real Shiro would never hurt Keith. Would never intentionally harm the team.

“The weakest link finally gains some balls, I see.” The clone titters. “Show me what you got, blue paladin.”

“Let us go and I won’t have to.”

The clone activates his arm. “I’m afraid that’s not an option.”

Lance aims at his chest plate. One shot, and he could kill him. End this once and for all. 

He bit his lip. His authoritative voice when giving orders in the black lion, the moment they first found him, long hair and stubble and seconds away from death. His awkwardness at performing the voltron show, but never denying his participation because he wanted to help as much as he could. Is this really not Shiro? He is a clone, yes, but had he been acting the whole time? Lance doesn’t think so.

He moves the target to the clone’s kneecaps. It won’t kill him, but may buy them some time to find an escape. Or pry the doors open somehow. The alternate team is coming through their disorientation.

Right as Lance is about to shoot and the clone bent his legs to charge, the screech of metal ripping apart is heard. The clone looks up, and before he could react a flash of green kicks into him, a familiar battle cry coming from the assailant. The clone goes flying across the room, hit a wall with a hard crunch. Pidge climbs down from the rope and grins at Lance.

“Your saviors have arrived.”

Lance sighs in relief. “Oh man you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Where are the others?”

“Ouch!”

“Oof--sorry Allura, tight squeeze.”

Hunk barrels down from the ceiling, two black holes where covering should be. One was significantly farther away from the other, which Lance assumes is where Pidge came from, Hence her bayard being used as a rope. Allura follows Hunk in the second hole, gracefully landing. 

“Coran notified us the other team hadn’t report back when they should have.” says Allura. “Are you alright?”

“I am,” Lance starts, hesitating at the next part. “But Keith...princess, he’s badly injured.” Lance moves away from concealing Keith, Allura gasping at his condition. She ran to him, lifting his head and to check if he is awake and looking down at the bloody hole in his stomach.

“Lance. What happened and how long has it been?”

He looks away. “The clone. He stabbed him twice. It’s been ten minutes, but he is losing more blood than he should.”

“He is hemorrhaging. And his lungs are filling up with blood.” She turns back to Lance. “We need to hurry.”

“The switch is destroyed.” Lance points out, his panic making way to the surface. “I--I don’t know what to do. I don’t see a way out and--Allura,” he says her name with a tremble. “Allura I’m scared for him.”

She sets her hands on his shoulders, sympathetic and kind. “I know Lance, so am I. But we will save him. We will handle the clone while Pidge is walked through the system with Coran. Stay with Keith.”

She turns just in time to see Hunk throw the clone over his shoulders, preventing the clone from keeping him in a chokehold. Alternate Pidge has unsteadily pick herself up and made her way to her counterpart, landing an electric blow to clone Shiro as she passed. Allura joins the fight with the others, the rest of the alternate team awake and despite being beat up, prepared for a round 2. The clone is good at keeping up with them, not at all fearful of his position as some blows made their mark. The serum is forgotten. Their main objective?

Kill the clone for hurting their friend.

Lance turns to go back to Keith and nearly keels over at he sight. 

Keith is white. Extremely white. His chest isn’t moving, and his beautiful violet eyes were hidden away, his raven locks drenched his sweat and covering half of his face as it lolls forward. 

“No, no no no no.” He drops next to kept and wraps him in his arms, his body limp and unresponsive. 

“No, no! Keith, Keith wake up.  _ Please. _ ” He shakes him, an arm supporting his back and his shoulders keeping up his head as Lance used his other hand to slap Keith lightly on the cheek. He shakes him again, desperate and panic bursting through the seams.

“Goddamnit Keith, wake up! You’re not--you’re going to be okay. Please, please wake up for me. Please!” 

Hit by a wave of relief, Keith cracks open his eyes. The relief is temporary though, because his eyes...they were void of vibrant color, diffused with the shade of dark indigo, almost black. Lance wants to cry.

“Hey, hey samurai. Come on, you have to stay awake. We are going to get you to a healing pod, just stay awake.”

“Lance...?” Keith says in a hush. “Lance...It hurts.”

“I know, just hang on. We will fix it, I promise.” He brushes the hair from his face, trying to distract him from the pain.

“You have--” He stops for a second, wincing at the sharp pain as he shifts closer to Lance. “You have the necklace.”

Lance glances down at the necklace around his neck. “I do. You left it on my jacket hook. If you didn’t like it you could have told me.”

“No. No I--shit--I love it.” He winces again. “I didn’t want to lose it.”

Lance weakly chuckles. “That’s good for my ego.”

“Mmm...” Keith’s eyes began to flutter close. Lance slaps his cheek again.

“Hey, no falling asleep. Keep your eyes on me, okay?”

Keith blinks at a snail’s pace. “I...can’t.”

“Yes you can,” Lance works to keep the tremor from his voice. “If you can handle being beaten the shit out of at the blade, you can keep your eyes open.”

“Lance I...need you...to do somethin...” Keith is fighting hard against slurring his words, his vision splitting in two. Lance arches an eyebrow at him, and carefully, hissing as he moves to retrieve something from the confines of his belt, holds out a filled syringe in a shaky hand.

“He never knew he was a clone...This will put him to sleep, don’t...” Keith took a breathe. “Don’t kill him.”

Lance’s heart broke. Even after being stabbed by a clone, he still wants to save Shiro. Save a copy of him. To Keith, it doesn’t matter if he is a copy of his brother. He fought against his programming until the very end, never truly wishing to be evil and simply wanted to save the universe like the rest of them. 

Lance took the syringe. 

“Okay.” He looks to Pidge. “Pi--”

Keith stops him by weakly putting a hand on his face and turning him to look at Keith. 

Unshed tears shone in his eyes. 

“You need to do it.”

“W--I can’t, I have to stay with you.”

“I’ll be fine. Go.”

Lance didn’t move.

“GO!” Keith musters up a yell, lifting his body with it. He collapses against Lance after, breathing heavily. “I’ll be waiting...for you.”

Against his better judgement, Lance nods, curt. He lifts Keith off him, apologizing when Keith groans from the wound, the ache worsening from the motion. Lance places Keith’s hands on his wound, kissing his head and reminding him to stay awake. Keith only nods tiredly, his eyes telling him to get a move on.

Lance faces the scene. The clone’s back is to him, the two Pidges talking with Coran on the line and telling him how to put them back online and activate the door. It should have immediately opened upon Coran inputting the code, but an error code popped up. The clone must have hacked the system beforehand. Or really shot more than simple buttons. The others were keeping the clone’s attention, rage lining each paladin’s expression as they kick, punch, elbow, duck, dodge, and threw the clone about. The alternate Shiro is the most vicious, a sibling protectiveness overriding his desire for mercy and showing a side of him Lance thought only existed in the clone. He left burn marks on his other self, puffy scares slashing his cheeks and an eye. 

And Allura. She has mastered the pink bayard to a smooth degree, but it rivals with her ability to wield a staff. She is not only throwing him across the room as she had done with the alternate Alteans, but landing blow after blow with the staff she brought through the rift. The clone was able to block a few, but found himself winded often.

Both Hunks were excellent at dodging, capturing the clone in a chokehold for the others to gain an opening. Sometimes he is shaken off, yet when they gain the upper hand and deck him, he is disoriented for a good amount of time. They had just as much muscle as Shiro. 

The alternate Lance is not afraid of hand to hand combat. In fact, Lance believes his alternate self has gone through more training exercises than he has. He is swift and watchful, quick to block the clone’s attacks while either landing a blow to his solar plexus or twisting his human arm to a breaking point. At some point in the fight he uses hs bayard to shoot the clone, the shot hitting the area where his human shoulder and galra prosthetic meet. A part of him did hold back, for he could have always used his bayard and kill the clone at some point. But, in a very Lance like fashion, underneath the fury and bitterness is a boy who does not wish to turn into a murderer. To be like the clone and let down his past love. 

Lance met his eyes, a tsunami of blue locking on a calm ocean. Noticing the syringe in his palm, alternate Lance calls out to the team.

“Guys! Don’t kill him!”

“That’s a little hard to do at this point.” Hunk strains, barely missing a kiss of fire as the clone’s galra hand swipes at him.

“Shut up and trust me!” Alternate Lance blasts a shot, hitting the clone’s other shoulder. He whips around and glares at alternate Lance, about to target him when Allura hits him in the face with the end of her staff, the alternate Allura slashing the air with her whip and wrapping it around the clone’s neck. He claws at the whip, alternate Allura pulling more as he struggles to loosen the hold. Hunk and alternate Hunk seizes his arms, clone Shiro doing his best to shake them off. He goes to take their feet out from under them, but alternate Shiro sneaks behind him and slices his calves and tissue behind the knees with his galra prosthetic.. The clone collapses, the tendons of his legs and ankles throbbing and bleeding. He continues to resist, both Hunks gradually losing their grip.

“If you’re going to strike, do it now! We can’t hold him much longer.” Alternate Hunk states.

Lance snaps out of his dubious state and makes his way over. 

As he approaches, staring at the clone dead in the eyes, wearing the face of a friend but eyes brimming with hatred, Lance did not hesitate to inject the serum in his neck.

\-------------------------------------------------

 

Keith watches Lance’s retreating figure, mustering a small smile as he did. His wound aches for solace, the sensation worsening with every second that goes by, with every pained breath he makes. He swallows the blood building in his throat, the metallic taste rivaling with the smell of iron. His vision is becoming blurry, his body cold to the touch, and his strength sapping away with each passing moment he went without treatment.

Maybe this is the end. This is how he goes, staining the floor with the hue of a lunar eclipse, never disappearing to reveal a bright sun and proceed to keep the team in unexpected darkness. 

He knew, technically Lance did not need to inject the serum. The others for sure could have done it. But then he would be here, watching as Keith dies in front of his very eyes. Keith does not wish that upon anyone. Does not wish for his loved one to be traumatized by the immovable force of death. As much as he craved Lance’s warmth, to gaze deep into those twin azure seas, he could not have his desires. If he could have one wish, he would wish for him--them--to move on. To not be stuck in time as he saw with the alternate team, their emotions caught in the past despite needing to manufacture the future. 

Shiro, his brother who is lost in his reality, but safe in this. Shine and lead as you always have, never letting even the kiss of death steal who you are and your future. You have triumph so much, you can triumph over sadness as well.

Pidge, the little sister he never had. Hack your way into smiles, enjoy your time with your brother. He is alive and well, do not let the most strenuous times in the relationship prevent you from saying or showing your love.

Hunk, the truest friend and the biggest heart. Keep it soft, for you are a light that brightens even the darkest of doorways. Follow what you have doing and accept those for who they are, guided by tuition and faith in the souls sad and ugly to hold goodness within.

Coran, teach the team new wonderful things of the universe, showing stars and galaxies in the blackest of holes. Make them laugh when the days are bad and their confidence depleted.

Allura, the heart of the universe, do not waver in your pursuit for peace. Gentle and triumphant, beat the demons plaguing your belief in yourself and make your father proud. The Alteans may be gone, but they live on in your heart.

And Lance, the original heart of voltron and the boy Keith loves. Smile, for it makes you more beautiful and radiant than you already are, and never forget to laugh. Your laughter is contagious; harmonious music that never fails to warm Keith’s chest, as well as everyone else’s. Do not shed more tears than smiles, and search and seize happiness, even if Keith is gone.

Keith’s pressure on the wound weakens and his hand, sticky and coarse with crimson, falls to his side. His lids heavy with exhaustion flutters closed, and his body, once steady from the last remaining strength he contained, releases all tension and collapses in a heap.

The last thing he hears is his name and pairs of blue and green boots running to him.

\--------------------------------------

 

The clone fights the serum for a second, but ultimately gave into its effects and slumps forward, allowing alternate Allura to release her bayard and for alternate and original Hunk to let go, wiping their foreheads of a hard day’s work.

“I thought he would NEVER stop moving.” says Hunk. 

“Keith!? Keith!” Pidge hollers, getting up from her spot with the computer and running to him. Lance follows suit, his long legs shaking but not once tripping. 

Keith is on the floor, not moving. His hair covers his entire face, prompting Pidge to frantically move it aside and hovers her glasses over his nose. In a few seconds it fogs, but Pidge knew the seconds it took for Keith to breathe were elongating, the intervals a frightening slowness. She looks to the others, scared.

“He is not okay. We have maybe ten minutes. Maybe less if we don’t get that door open.”

Lance took Keith from her and hoists him up, trying to slap him awake like before. But it isn’t working. His lids did not move about with dreams, staying at a standstill. He did not so much as grunt from the pressure Lance applies to his stomach.

“Buddy, come on. Nap time is later, wake up.” He pleads. He looks back at Pidge. 

“Get that door open fast.” Lance turns to Shiro next. “Try prying open the doors in the meantime. We have to...” Lance moves his eyes back to Keith. “We have to save him.”

Pidge hesitates, but blinks back tears and returns to her station, alternate Pidge waiting for her with determination. 

Lance slaps Keith a little harder, enough that it would have earned him a death glare under other circumstances. 

“You’re okay, buddy. Open your eyes, you swore to me you’d be waiting for me. You don’t break promises, remember?”

A hard shake.

“Wake up! We have galra butt to kick. Remember Lotor? Evil dude with good hair?” His voice wobbles as he tries to rouse him with a joke. No one is laughing, and Lance hates he said it. 

Another slap.

“Please, Keith. You’re a fighter. You don’t give up easily, please open your eyes.”

For a moment, a small glimmer in the shadows, Keith moves his head against Lance’s shoulder, his eyes cracking open. Lance gives a relieved sigh.

“Lance?”

Lance tearfully smiles. “Hey buddy.”

Keith leans into his touch, his gloved hand coming up at a snail’s pace, but nevertheless brushes his fingers against Lance’s cheek. Lance cups his hand over Keith’s, a tear trailing down as he blinks and kisses his palm.

Keith barely, just barely, lifts the side of his lips in a tiny smile before his eyes closed once again, his hand going slack.

Lance’s relief morphs into panic, dropping his hand and taps his face. He screams Keith’s name, the tears escaping their prison and carving rivers down his cheeks. They were steady, but as seconds turn into minutes they were large and fast flowing, the tears never pausing in their freefall. 

“Keith, please wake up...” He pleads between cries. “I never got to--I never got to tell you how I feel.”

He hugs Keith to his chest, his limp body being rocked back and forth as Lance holds him close, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to whatever God that will listen to hear him. He attempts to hold back sobs, but his body betrays him in the end. His face is buried in Keith’s hair, his shoulders lifting up and down from the shredding of his heart as he cradles him. Everything hurts. His eyes, his head, his heart, his soul. It is as if someone ripped him in two and skinned him alive.

“Come back, my love. Come back.”

Alternate Lance isn’t alright either. He ripped off his helmet and chucked it in anger, alternate Hunk choosing to gather him in an embrace as he rips at his hair. Hunk gently pries his fingers off his scalp, letting him hide his face on alternate Hunk’s chest, though he could feel alternate Lance shudder every now and then, most likely hiccups from silently crying to himself.

Alternate Shiro, though his focus is on the door, his mind is not. He pulls at them harder, screaming curses and growling in an animalistic rage. He lost one brother, he will not lose another. Not another. Not again. 

The other Hunk is on par with Lance in his emotional state, refusing to hold it back like alternate Hunk. And the Alluras...Alternate Allura held her other self as alternate Hunk held alternate Lance, rubbing circles into her back and not saying anything. She does not cry, though her eyes shines and are rimmed with red. 

Pidge kept her focus on her laptop. The glare of her glasses conceals her eyes, though as she types furiously, a single droplet streams down to her chin. Alternate Pidge sets her hand on her shoulder, a means to comfort her counterpart, though the pang in her chest grew almost unbearable.

“I almost...GOT IT!” Pidge exclaims in victory. The doors woosh open and alternate Shiro stumbles. Everyone looks up, a spark of hope withering the despair away. Her attention veers to Lance. 

“Run!”

Lance lifts Keith bridal style, a new wave of hope clasping his downtrodden heart. Alternate Shiro offers to do the job, but Lance shakes his head and books it down the hallway to where Coran resides. Allura and alternate Shiro keeps up with him, their inner clock ticking away close to the point of no return. They round the corner, Lance nearly tripping and almost dropping Keith, but manages to stay upright. 

It is now or never. There is still a chance. As small is it is, as large as the possibility Lance is carrying a corpse rather than the living boy he adores, he places a bet against the grim reaper. 

Coran waves them over.

“Hurry, into the pods! We don’t have time to change him.”

Carefully but quickly, Lance pushes Keith into the cool pod. It closes instantly, concealing the boy behind glass.

Coran pulls up his vitals. Ticks went by, the ginger man not speaking as he analyzes the data.

The team waits, impatient and worried, anticipating the worst as they held their breath for the final diagnostic. 

Coran opens his mouth.

“You made it just in time. Another two minutes, he would have been dead.” He smiles warmly. “The red paladin lives.”

  
\-------------------------------------

[Come yell at me on tumblr!](https://stardust-and-blades.tumblr.com/)

[Clone Shiro vs. Keith (art)](http://crazycookiemaniac.tumblr.com/post/176329418975/and-here-is-one-hearbreaking-scene-commissioned-by#post-notes)

P.S. there is a klangst piece i just gotta give the go ahead for the artist to post it! Will edit the link here later or in the next chapter! 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He lives!!!!  
> For now  
> don't get too comfortable hahAHAHA
> 
> We have about two more chapters before the end and they should be out soon. Look out for a new story I'm starting, which is a galtean AU mixed with a soulmate AU. As well as a oneshot. More about it will be on my blog :)
> 
> Please comment, leave a kudos, and bookmark it! You want to stay until the very end. I love reading all your comments despite not replying, you all are so sweet and funny. Remember, 99% of my stories will have a happy ending.


	9. 12 Vargas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is in a healing pod, but will he heal in time, or will the paladins have to leave him behind so he can live?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Chapter. HAD TO BE SPLIT UP  
> JUST AT ITS LENGTH IT WAS 44 PAGES HOLY SHIT
> 
> Yall better be happy I love yall. This chapter took so fucking long oh my sweet hell. I cannot believe this. My fingers hurt. My BRAIN hurts.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy lovelies! The end is near, but we aren't quite there yet :)

So, he will be okay?” The blue paladin asks, wishing for confirmation in case he misheard.

“Diagnostically, yes.” Coran replies, his attitude changing from relief to nervousness.

Lance arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” Coran looks over the diagnostics as he spoke, tapping away at the buttons. “You all cut it very close. The damage done is significant--a lung has ruptured, organs failing, a large amount of blood loss, and internal bleeding. You said the clone stabbed him twice, correct?”

“Yeah, he...began to pull it out, but he...”Lance wants to vomit as he says the words. The gruesome details replaying, the sickening wet noise and Keith’s hitched gasp standing out as Lance stood unable to do anything. “he shoved it back in. Upwards.”

Coran attempts to hold back a wince. “If the clone only stabbed him once, he wouldn’t have as much injuries. Closer to the left, he would have been paralyzed. Recovery will be a long road.”

“About how long?” Alternate Allura asks.

Coran’s eyes are grim. “Fourteen quintents.”

“Fourteen?” Pidge exclaims. “We only have 12 vargas before the portal to our reality collapses.”

“I know. That’s what I’m worried about.” He looks back to the pod Keith lies in, scanning the young paladin he has not seen in so long, wishing he could provide an alternative to the slow healing pods. “If Altea survived I’m sure we would have made faster healing pods. Unfortunately, our reality did not bless us with such options.”

“There has to be a way. You sure you can’t speed up the process?”

“Not to my knowledge. Even if we could, it would be dangerous. Keith’s organs may be able to heal fine, but there is still the risk of the healed tissue being too fragile and ultimately rupture at any moment in time. A simple bend, a small twitch, and the tissue could tear.”

Round hazels stare up at Coran helplessly, Pidge unable to hack her way into fixing one of her friends, possibly facing the loss of a brother despite fighting so hard to save him.

“So you’re saying we will have to leave him here. Forever.”

Coran, aching from the devastation Pidge and the team wore, bent to her level. A father talking to a shaken child. 

“I can try manipulating the machine to the best of my ability.” He starts gently. “I cannot promise anything, but I can assure you, we will do all we can to return your team and Keith home safely.” Coran pats her head, a fatherly gesture he loves to do in times of crisis.

“Now, why don’t you and everyone else head back to your rooms? You’ll need your energy to travel beyond the rift.” 

Pidge looks back and forth between Coran and Keith, her gaze lingering a little longer at her comatosed friend. She just bought a person she thought was her friend. And her other friend is teetering between life and death, the large gash in his stomach serving as a perfect symbol for the differing planes. 

If not for the abundance of blood staining his suit, Pidge would have thought he were sleeping. That he fell into a deep slumber, exhausted from fighting a war with himself and the Galra empire. She wonders what he could be dreaming, if he could dream at all. Were they sweet and kind, filled with smiles and bubbling laughter, or are they of the yellow orbs of the clone, red hot agony splitting his form even in a mental escape. Her skills excel in technology and hacking, able to break away the strongest of viral barriers. Yet when it comes to the physical and emotional state of her friends, she is worthless. What good is she if she cannot save the people she loves. 

“I think I want to stay here.”

“My dear, you need rest.” Coran pushes, not unkind.

Pidge settles herself next to Keith’s pod, looking over his diagnostics as she hacks her way into the pod’s information. “I will fetch a blanket and pillow in a moment. I don’t think I can sleep easy right now anyway.”

“I’m with you there.” Lance inputs, his arms slack and double lines under his eyes. He is covered in Keith’s blood, and he blinks slowly, most likely from the sheer burning from the overflow of waterworks. He goes to sit down.

“Erm...Lance?” Hunk calls, hesitant.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to...uh...change into something comfortable? Your suit is kinda banged up.”

“What are you--” He looks down to where Hunk is staring. “Oh.”

“Sorry buddy. Do you need help? I can--”

Lance holds up a hand to stop Hunk as he turns to leave for his assigned room. “I got it. I’ll be back.”

He ignores Hunk’s protests, refusing to acknowledge his concern as he enters the dark hallway. It is lit with a mellow blue glow, did nothing to lighten the anger and compressed stress in the back of his mind. 

They managed to get Keith into a healing pod with a couple minutes to spare, but not only have they faced the possibility of losing Keith to death, they now face the problem of leaving him behind so he can recover. If he doesn’t recover properly, he could die anyway, making all their efforts a failure, and ultimately turning their optimistic reality into a mirrored tragedy. What is it going to take for Lance and the team to be given a break? Why can’t they keep their friends safe, why didn’t he know sooner their Shiro was a clone? From the moment he told Keith and the paladins to focus more on the comet rather than their own lives should have been a sign. Shiro never, not once, sent the paladins on a mission with a high chance of loss. Never has he forced them to do something they were uncomfortable with, yet the Shiro they claimed as a friend and official black paladin leader was doing just that, slipping through Lance’s fingers. 

As he shut the door to his room he yanks his bloodied chest plate off and tosses it against the opposing wall from his bed, the metal clank soon being followed by several more armor pieces. Lance did not care to check and see if they cracked from the force. He didn’t care, that isn’t the most concerning thought swirling around, an ache flowering in his chest. Not to mention their families. Pidge just found her brother, Hunk and Lance misses their families like crazy, and Allura...her people are gone. But those left alive and under the rule of the Galra would be left without hope from her. The rebels and Blade of Marmora exist, but they had not managed to place a dent in the Galran empire until Allura and Coran’s awakening from their comatose state. 

Yet, he didn’t want to go back without Keith. He didn’t want to abandon him, even though he would be left in the hands of their alternate selves. As much as they adore Keith, as much as they want to see him okay, they cannot leave their universe defenseless. Allura could not abandon Coran, and Keith himself would be furious at them for allowing his life to be seen more important than the lives of millions. 

He does not doubt his alternate self would be a little happy. The moment he laid eyes on Keith the very moment he unmasked himself, he could tell his other self was both appalled and deeply overjoyed, the haze of grief lighting up as he saw his friend and past crush was back from the dead. His eyes never left Keith, and neither did the alternate team. Shiro embraced Keith so hard Keith’s facial expression hinted at discomfort in his ribs. The party, the graveyard, alternate Lance talking to the headstone, the shattering screams of the alternate team as clone Shiro impaled Keith with his very own blade; they had been dealt a horrible hand in fate. Maybe this was fate trying to fix its wrong.

Lance toys with the necklace, sitting on his mattress and twisting the jewel around as he stares at it. There was far too much blood on his suit, yet it managed to not touch the twinkling crystal as he held a dying Keith in his arms. 

He shudders. He can still feel the warm sticky fluid coating him from chest to thighs, Lance wanting to take a shower to rid himself of the sensation. 

He rubs his face. God, what are they going to do? Why couldn’t it have been him stabbed rather than the person he loves? He would take his place in a heartbeat if that meant he would be able to smile another day.

“You did a disappearing act once, you can’t do it twice.” Lance says to the crystal, as if it beholds a response. 

A knock is heard outside his door. Lance drops the crystal and stands up.

“I’ll be out in a moment.”

“Lance, it’s me. Hunk.”

“Which one?”

There is a sigh. “Your Hunk. Bud, can you let me in? I know you’re not okay. The others know this too and are worried. Hell, you and alternate Lance are locked up in your rooms.”

“I said I’ll be there in a moment.” Lance says lowly, clenching his jaw to distract himself from the burning behind his eyelids.

He heard a rustle and a grunt, the sound of cloth grating on the door. “Fine, then I’m not leaving here until you A: open the door, or B: talk to me.”

“Is there an option C?” Lance dryly jokes, leaning against the wall where Hunk should be sitting.

“Yeah, it’s me grabbing Pidge and hacking our way inside.”

“I’ll take option Z, which is leave. Me. Alone.” Lance stresses, narrowing his eyes at the door.

Hunk doesn’t reply for a good minute. Lance goes back to staring at the crystal, feeling every ounce of emotions toiling in his belly.

“You know, I always thought the rivalry was your way of hiding the fact you wanted to be friends with Keith.” Hunk finally says, his tone clear and factual.

“You always claimed to hate the guy, but I know what true hate is. You wear it many times when you look in the mirror.”

Hunk waits for an answer. Lance is too shaken to dignify his comment with a response. Lance has always been good at hiding his true emotions. Hunk and him have been best friends for a long time, but he still kept his guard up when his confidence dipped or his flying capabilities were questioned. Especially by Iverson. That guy really knew how to tear Lance down. 

“I’m right, aren’t I? Believe me or not Lance, you’re not as invisible as you think. We see your potential. We see your value. And we see you in pain.”

Lance couldn’t help himself. He weakly laughs. “Potential. Never took you for a comedian, Hunk.”

“Don’t give me that.” Hunk snaps. “You were the first one to receive--no, be chosen by a lion. The blue lion, the heart of Voltron. Yeah, Allura has her now, but don’t forget you were blue’s first choice. Oh, and Red, KEITH’S original lion? Yeah, that lion is known to be temperamental and picky. As Allura said, you have to earn its respect. You earned it simply by existing.”

“Umm, I think it was because I accepted Keith as the leader.” Lance corrects.

“Technicalities. Yeah, you accepted Keith, but you didn’t have to be thrown in space in order to pilot her. You’re a talented pilot and overall person, Lance. And you have a big heart that is bleeding right now. Why can’t you see your potential? Why can’t you admit you’re hurting?” Hunk says the last part quietly, Lance sensing Hunk wanting to hug his best friend.

Lance drops the crystal, letting out a breath. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s 2+2, Lance. Not astrophysics.” 

“Well guess what Hunk! I flunked math!”

Hunk hums. “Sure, in 8th grade. You’re at the very least decent now, isn’t that how you got into the garrison? Like you said in the beginning, you were on par with Keith.”

“Because he flunked out. If he didn’t I would have been a cargo pilot.”

“And I was supposed to be an engineer!” Hunk argues, waving his hands in the air despite Lance unable to see it. “Fun fact Lance, I was told how to fix a ship, not drive it! Just chuck me in the yellow lion, Allura, no concern there!” 

Lance chuckles at Hunk’s reminiscence of the past. He is right there. Lance can recall his nervous banter as he chucked him out of the blue lion to retrieve the yellow lion.

“You were quite scared.”

“No shit.” The yellow paladin gripes. “But my talents and overall destiny changed, and while I still kinda curse it to this very day--what with all the life and death situations--I became someone else. So did you. In a good way.”

“I guess.” He kinda gives in, biting his lip.

“No, you know. And you also know your initial feelings towards Keith changed.” Hunk shifts onto his knees, facing the door rather than the hallway. “Trust me when I say I see what is really going on in you. Please don’t have us watch as you force yourself to hurt alone. I love Keith too. Not like you do, but...I get it.” He puts his hands against the door, a plea waiting to be answered. “Let me in.”

For a good moment, Hunk believed he still could not get through to Lance, and would be left in the dark as he internally destroyed himself. But as he stands up to grab Pidge, a hushed wind passes, Lance standing in the doorway and waiting for Hunk to enter.

Hunk smiles, thankful for the opportunity to aid his friend, and gathers Lance in a tight bear hug. Lance reciprocates the gesture, and as Hunk made his way into his room, he unthreads all the tight stitches surrounding Lance’s heart so he can let go.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Lance, where are you going?”

“My room, where else?”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now.” Shiro reasons, catching up to a fast pace alternate Lance and snatching his upper arm. “Lance, look at me.”

“What!?” Lance shouts, the two scars marking his profile scrunching in an angry convergence. “I am not in the mood, Shiro. I’m not in the mood to talk out my feelings, to talk about the horrid detail of Keith almost dying, and I certainly do not want to talk about how this fucking reality is cursed with taking away the people I love!”

Lance tries to yank himself away from Shiro, but the man is using his Galra arm, preventing Lance from having any chance of escaping.

“Let me go, Shiro. Let me go--”

Shiro ignores Lance’s protesting and pulls him in, releasing Lance’s arm as he encircles him in an embrace. He doesn’t say anything. Just holds Lance close, allowing the boy to at first stiffen from the sudden display of affection, to accepting it and leaning his head on Shiro’s shoulder. Lance is reminding him a lot of his brother who passed on--the angry outbursts, the shutting down, and definitely the push to isolate oneself. 

The fun loving, sweet young paladin who rarely wore a mask of pure hatred was covered in it from head to toe, the wisdom he beheld since his ascension to red paladin withering away into blind resentment. It scared Shiro, for this is not the first time Lance has shown a dark part of himself. It may not be the worst, but it certainly is bad enough Shiro could not leave it alone. The paladins are his friends--his comrades and family. They have been walking around with a void in their souls for a whole year. To see the void alter into a bleeding wound and not able to stitch it up makes Shiro view himself as a worthless leader. If he can’t keep the team together physically and emotionally, then what is the point in his role. He would give his entire being if it meant his team would go back to how they used to be--kids. Teenagers just trying to have fun. Not experience a loss at a tender age. Not see their past teammate and friend almost die once again, reopening the scabs covering each and every one of them.

Now he is witnessing Lance tear himself down and destroy who he is in a slow manner. He could hear his pained scream as he came to from disorientation as Keith fell into a bloody heap. He could see the trauma reappear in those blue irises as Keith coughed up red fluid and was enduring a second jab up his torso. He saw him reliving the nightmare of the past, as if Lance’s actual nightmares doesn’t do that enough.

Shiro won’t let him return to his family as a battered and bruised young man with no spark in his eyes. Yes he is physically scarred, and he has been dealt a hard blow to his ego and heart, but he will not stand for it to be forcibly ripped out by the former blue paladin and remain a shell for the remainder of his life. 

“He’s going to be okay Lance. He’s going to be okay.” He rests his human hand on Lance’s head. “Allura and Coran will see to it.”

“What is the point in us being paladins if we can’t save one of the lives we consider important?” He pushes Shiro away, tearfully glaring up at him. “What is the point in us defending the universe if we can’t live up to our hero status? We were supposed to protect him, that was the point of plan B. That’s why we had the rope, the serum, the entire team on board and Coran keeping an eye on the others. That was the whole entire point and we failed.”

“We didn’t fail--”

“WE FAILED, SHIRO!” Lance yells at the top of his lungs, the tears giving way and trailing down his stricken face. Shiro’s eyes widen, Lance being the least he expected to give way to such fury. “We had one job. Just like last time. Our goal was to take down the clone and keep Keith a good portion away. Hell, he shouldn’t have even been there.”

Shiro wants to laugh. Tell Keith to stay out of a mission involving his cloned best friend and overpowering him on their own would have been like telling Keith not to use his sword during battles. It would have been in vain. He knows Lance is simply lashing out, but Shiro too is reaching the same level of frustration.

“You know as well as I do if we kept him out he would have found a way in. It was safer to know he was involved rather than him spring up on us.”

“We would have found a way.”

Shiro shook his head. “No, we wouldn’t have. He would have ended up in a worse state if we kept him in the dark.”

Lance let out a short, choppy laugh, void of any amusement. The tears continues, he he hardly seems to notice, let alone be affected by his rapid descent into grief. “Oh yeah, totally worse than being stabbed twice.”

Shiro takes a breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose to focus on his goals here. Shiro is a master at patience, but his is riding thin with both the stressful situation of Keith weighing on his mind, and now Lance being difficult. He cannot blame him, but at the same time he is failing to see the problem with his logic. With the world of possibilities, everything could have ended up much worse. Much, much worse. And Shiro has to make this clear without losing his cool. 

“Okay. Say you’re right. Keith could have been safer. But,” Shiro begins to warn, treading lightly. “It could have also been worse.”

“How? How could things have possibly gotten worse?”

“He could have lost his head.” Shiro grits out, blunt. Lance slightly reels back, as if he had been slapped. “The clone came close. He could have had his heart ripped out, or completely cut him in half. So trust me when I say we got the better end of the stick than we could have hoped for.” He approaches Lance again, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re angry, but you’re also sad. Stop holding back.” He retracts his hand, lowering his eyes. “I’ll leave you alone if you want, but you should know Keith will be okay. We are just as scared as you are, but there is hope.”

Lance turns his head away, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand. The tears won’t stop. A hole in his mental armor is leaking, and it is gradually breaking away into a broken dam rather than a small leak. Shiro is right. The mission went to Hell, but it didn’t reach the worst possible outcome. Lance can be thankful for that alone. But he couldn’t get rid of the image in his head. He couldn’t get the clone and Keith out; the more he thought about it the more pained he became. He is supposed to be a good soldier, not a blubbering mess. But God...how his other self was clinging onto an almost lifeless body. The way Keith touched the other Lance with a mournful, tender brush, alternate Lance cannot erase it from his memory. It is what he would have done if Keith’s remains weren’t scattered across the wreckage or turned to ash--hold him tight and never let go.

He is reliving the past, and it hurts so much.

He was not aware of his body doing its thing when his deactivated jetpack hit the side wall and he slid to the ground, the wiping of his eyes turns into him covering his face from Shiro. 

“Tell me he will return to his reality,” whispers Lance, his voice cracking at the end. “Tell me my other self won’t suffer like I am.”

Shiro, sad and unsure, spoke words he could not tell is truth or lies.

“He won’t.”

Lance doesn’t resist when Shiro sits by him and wraps an arm around his shoulders. They sat there, equal in their pain, but different in their ways of expressing said hurt. Lance is aware Shiro is trying to be the leader right now, rather than the brother. 

“Funny how you work to cheer us up, but you aren’t doing so well yourself, are you?” He leans into the older male, feeling him stiffen. So, he isn’t wrong afterall. 

“Can’t get anything past you, huh?” Shiro says, tight and filled with anguish at the memory.

“I saw myself stab him. I saw myself forsake my baby brother. As if I didn’t kill him already.”

“You didn’t kill keith.”

“I might as well have.” The image of Keith in his blade of marmora suit flashes through his mind. “I should have ripped him out of the blade as soon as I returned.”

Shiro turns his profile away from Lance, shielding any sign of affect from the paladin. He is more expressive than Keith, yet he still hides behind a mask, and though the team pulls and tugs, it has only moved an inch off. Lance wants the mask off, like how his is crushed into stardust. 

Shiro has taken care of them long enough. 

“It’s okay to feel, Shiro.” Lance says, a whisper. “It isn’t fair if you tell us to cry and scream, but you don’t do it yourself.”

Shiro’s shoulders shake, and as Lance lays his head on his shoulder as a push to break free, as support for him to drop the leader act, he came undone.

It is different from last time.

This time, he cries in fear rather than defeat.

\------------------------------------------------------

Keith felt like he was floating. 

The pain in his abdomen subsided as he entered unconsciousness, the warm arms around his body disappearing and the azure gems that fell on his cheeks blurred into nothingness. He remembered a voice. It was frantic and screaming, a high pitched ringing overcoming the voice and leading him into a state of deafness. His skin felt cold. The shivers prickling his arms and legs as his mind ceased processing his surroundings. 

Are his teammates okay? Did the alternate team escape, and is his Lance unscathed? Was the clone killed, or did Lance succeed in the last task Keith gave him before accepting his fate? 

Keith does not know. All there is in front of him is darkness. A sea of black expanding into a neverending void, not a blinking star or sign of color within Keith’s line of vision. Strangely enough, Keith couldn’t sense the brunt of his feelings over his predicament. His thoughts are fuzzy, overwhelmed by a dreamlike state. His eyes feel heavy, yet they refuse to close and his limbs do not move at his immediate will.

At the same time, he doesn’t care. He wants to float, pleased all his pain is gone. Content with simply existing in a plane he is unfamiliar with.

That is, until a flash of light crosses his vision and his body suddenly loses its anti-gravity sensation, him making contact with something hard. The back of his head takes up some of the force, not enough to give him a concussion, but in regular circumstances he would have probably gained a headache. 

He rubs the area, hissing as he stiffly sat up to look around.

The wooden floorboards. A dry heat seeping through a crack in a nearby window. The rustling of papers and an old, faded map popping off the pins keeping it in place, weathered by time. A bed to the corner of his eye, and a single bookcase riddled with several variations and genres of books.

His shack down on Earth.

“Well, I see you’re not that different.” 

Keith screams, scrambling to the other side of the room where the door resides. He reaches for his blade, but it no longer is tied to his belt. He is still wearing his Blade of Marmora suit, why isn’t his blade with him?

He lets go of the worry over his knife and focused more on the voice, a jolt coursing through his spine and his pupils dilating into slits as he lays his eyes on the owner of the all too familiar gruff, confident person.

It is himself. 

He stands against the map, arms crossed, dark hair in his face, and eyes staying on Keith. The only difference between the two is their given outfits. He wore his regular attire, his red jacket fit snuggly to his form, his belt hanging loosely and a bright contrast to his dark washed jeans and t-shirt. There is no indication of harm on his being, no blood to indicate where the lethal blow was dealt. He looks normal as ever, as if he were simply there to admire the scenery or stay for the night before he went off on a long running errand in the city. Body parts were not missing, and organs were not peaking out from his shirt. 

“You...you’re me. But from the alternate reality.” He says, the awe never leaving his voice. He stands up to meet his other self’s stance. “But you’re--”

“Dead.” Alternate Keith finishes, deadpan.

“Wait, does this mean...” He looks at his hands, his heart speeding up and a shake gradually affecting his form. He failed. He didn’t make it. He left Lance alone, AGAIN, and died in his arms. He coated Lance in his own blood, the wound never stopped releasing the ichor. The team is going to have to carry his lifeless body back home. He left the team alone. He left the team alone and he promised he wouldn’t let that happened he promised he promised--

“Hey!” Alternate Keith says, breaking Keith’s train of thought. His anxious stare met a cool, worried one. “Don’t panic, you’re not dead.”

“I’m...Not?”

Alternate Keith shook his head. “No, your soul is kind of...roaming. It came pretty close, that’s why you were floating. You were heading to your death.” He motions to the shed and its contents. “This is your safe space. A sort of limbo for your soul until you wake up.”

“So, I’m in a healing pod.”

“Yup. Your Lance got you there in time.” He smiles a fond, yet sad smile at the mention. “Your Pidge hacked into the system with the help of Coran. They got you in before it was too late.”

“But if I’m okay, then why are you here?” Keith shouldn’t be able to see his other self. If he were truly alive, then he shouldn’t be here. He is in the afterlife, and Keith is...well...not. If anything, he should be alone, wandering the limbo state in confusion and curiosity. 

He bit his lip, glancing at the map. “I...helped your soul get here. Like I said, you were dangerously close to death. The chord keeping your soul connected with your body was about to snap. In a sense, I pulled you away from where I reside. Limbo is usually an area where you roam the human world undetected, essentially making you a ghost. But since your soul is attached to your body still, and the pods have Altean magic, this is what pops up.”

Alternate Keith moves to the chair across the room, hiking one leg over the other, except his foot lies on his knee as he settles his elbow on the arm rest. He stared down Keith, a slight frown gracing his brow.

“You really gave the team a scare.”

Keith looks away, keeping his attention on the books beside him. “Can’t say I saw Shiro coming.”

“You mean the clone.”

“I...yeah. The clone.” He corrects, though it felt wrong on his lips. He knew his Shiro really wasn’t his upon alternate Shiro informing him of his suspicions. But he acted so much like him. Even until the very end. He could tell he was fighting his programming, clutching his head as if it were splitting open and he was trying to keep it from spilling onto the ground. In the end he did spill blood, and unfortunately it was Keith’s all because he let his guard down. He couldn’t protect the alternate team, nor Lance and a clone of Shiro.

“He is okay, you know.” Alternate Keith says, answering Keith’s unspoken question. “He was held down long enough for Lance to inject the serum. He is in a pod like you, except not being planned to be awakened.”

Keith’s shoulders sags a little, internally relieved. “Good.”

It goes quiet. Alternate Keith waves to the bed, beckoning him to sit down and relax. 

“You’ll be here for a bit. Not too long, since time is different here. Two hours have gone by in the living world as we have been talking.”

Keith glances down at his stomach. “The damage must be bad.”

“Being stabbed twice will do that to you.” Alternate Keith quips.

“Nothing compared to running into a particle barrier.” 

Keith blinks at his response, surprised for something painful to pop out of his mouth. To himself, of all people. He is about to apologize when alternate Keith waves him away, already distracted with the outside. 

“You’re not wrong.” Is all he says. Keith, awkward and ashamed, walks over to the bed and carefully sits down, as if it will disappear from under him if he isn’t cautious. He looks to his other self, scanning his features from the top of his dark head, which hasn’t grown in the year he has been gone, to the soles of his clean boots, untouched by age. His jacket seems almost new, save for a couple of strands hanging from the white sleeves. His skin is clear of any blemish, and his eyes changes into a lighter purple as he stares towards the setting sun. His chin rests upon his fist, Keith unable to determine what his other self could be feeling. He just sat there, quiet and void of any fight. 

It hits him like a ton of bricks.

He is sad. Keith always lashes out or goes quiet when something was bothering him, and his alternate self is of no difference. He is stuck in another plane of existence, unable to talk to his friends, alone in a place he has no choice but to reside at. He sacrificed his life so his friends can breathe. But while he may be content with knowing they are safe and sound, Keith does not doubt he is looking down and wishing he could talk to them; to touch them. Keith wonders what he could be mourning most: the loss of his too short life, or the loss of the love he never had the chance to pursue. 

So, Keith tries to help. Though he knows he isn’t good at it. He hasn’t been good at it with himself. His way of coping is training. But here there is no training ground and no weapons for Keith to use as a way out. 

“They really miss you too.” says Keith, soft and breathy. “Especially Lance. I gave him your jacket to...I don’t know, help? Shiro is still a good leader. But he has this sad glint in his eyes when he looks at the group.” He lifts his head to his alternate self. “They want you back so bad.”

Alternate Keith bends his head down and rubs his eyes with his forfinger and thumb, a shimmer being seen as fast as it disappears. Keith wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t paying attention. Alternate Keith lifts his head back up and morosely turns to his other self.

“I know.”

“Do you watch them from where you came from?” Keith asks, not sure how to continue the topic without ripping open old wounds. He wants to ask about Lance, but he he does not think his other self is ready to talk about either of the two Lances. Just discussing the team seems to affect him badly.

Alternate Keith nods. “I do. It’s like looking into a window, except I can’t pass through it. I watch mostly during their fights and missions. I know it’s fruitless, but when I watch them during those times I feel like I can maybe do something.”

“Were you ever able to get past the barrier?”

Alternate Keith hums in thought. “Besides helping you? There was one other time.”

“What was it?”

Alternate Keith turns to him fully, the sunset forgotten and his lips down turn into a grimace. “Lance and Lotor’s fight.”

Keith starts, not expecting such an answer. Lotor and Lance? In his reality the only fight they had was together as a team; possibly more during Keith’s absence. However neither the team nor clone Shiro ever mentioned meeting up with Lotor in person alone. Lance in his reality didn’t have a reason to--Lotor was too slippery for them to catch in such a vulnerable position. If Lance and Lotor did meet up in his reality, Allura would have notified the Blades of a failed capture or ongoing mission in retrieving Lotor away from his generals. 

But now that Keith thinks about it, that would explain the scar tissue lining alternate Lance’s face.

“Wait, Lance and Lotor fought? How? When? They--in our reality they didn’t have a chance to verse each other personally. My Lance has remained with the team or in pairs the entire time, even when I was gone.”

“That is your reality. In mine, Lance went on his own mission.” Alternate Keith’s face darkens. “After my death, Lance blamed Lotor. Haggar and Lotor worked together to keep their barrier up, and if not for that barrier Lance reasoned I would still be alive.”

“And he left when no one else was looking his way.” Keith finishes, the pieces falling together in a neat, horrendous picture.

“Yes. He snuck out at night,” Alternate Keith went on. “The team was asleep when he tracked out Lotor and Haggar’s base. He took Red and, despite not having the cloaking feature as Pidge did, stole a galran ship roaming the area on patrol. Red was left on a moon, and Lance dove in without a proper plan besides seeking vengeance.”

“But Lance has never been about vengeance. He’s...” Keith reaches for the balmeran crystal at his neck, but realized he left it to his Lance before he left on the mission to fight the clone. His hand froze, then drops, toying with the blanket underneath him instead. “He’s Lance.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.” He moves over to the bed besides Keith, the original red paladin scooting over to the side to make room. His alternate self hikes up his legs and hugs them, laying his chin on his knees. He kept his gaze focused on the bookcase across from them. “He found Lotor alone. Tried to sneak up on him, but Lotor was already prepared. I don’t know how.”

“He seems to always be ready for an attack. He bested us with the new lion switch, and that was five against five.” Keith adds, quietly agreeing with him.

“He’s a challenge; more so in our universe than yours.” He sighs. “At least in yours his alliance isn’t with haggar.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.” keith wearily remarks. Clone Shiro was bad enough. He cannot imagine how bad the situation would become if Lotor and Haggar came to a truce. 

“How did Lance escape? Something tells me in normal circumstances he would be right here with you.”

“He would have been if it weren’t for the team. And I guess me.” He scratches his neck out of habit, not used to talking about himself. “Lance found him in a room reading over Altean alchemy from his mother’s past loggings. He hid near the doorway, using his sniper rifle to scope out his head and attempt to take him out. But as he was about to take the shot, Lotor threw a dagger in his scope, tackling him and using his own sword. Lance is a long range fighter, not a close range like us. He fought a valiant fight, but in the end, Lotor got his bayard away from him and sliced his face in the process. It was a pretty deep cut, as you can tell from how it still is evident after a year. I was panicking. He was going to get himself killed for me; for a single life over those of millions.” 

Alternate Keith, overcome by the memory, stops for a second and takes a breath, clenching and unclenching his hands. Though time passes differently in limbo, Keith can see it is fresh in his mind, never fading away. He wonders if Lance experiences the same sensation when he looks back on the reveal of alternate Keith’s death.

“I screamed for Lotor to get away from him. I was pushing and punching at the invisible barrier, hating the fact I had to watch as my friend possibly die for me. I died for them to be safe, not for him to throw it all away. I screamed and screamed, wanting him to overpower Lotor. Wishing for the bayard to be like the black bayard and transport to his hand. Somehow--and I don’t know how still--I fell through the wall separating us and, fueled with shear protectiveness and anger, shoved Lotor aside. He was confused, of course, and in said state he neglected to pay attention to Lance. I kicked his bayard near him, and that was right around the same time the team tracked down Lance. The sprung an attack on the Galra while Shiro and Pidge snuck aboard and hacked into the system to shut it all down, giving them time to escape with an injured Lance. He did fend himself when Lotor focused on his attacker, but by then several things were happening at once. Lotor’s attention was split, and without his generals or mother, he somehow escaped the carnage.”

Keith covers his face and leans back on the bed, pulling at his hair. Lance, of all people, went on a suicide mission. A fucking suicide mission. He knows Lance is smart--both of them are when given the chance. But this was one of the most foolish decisions he could have ever made. Did he have some sort of fucking death wish? Keith understands he was mourning, but that doesn’t mean he should throw himself into a battle with low odds of coming out of it unscathed.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill him and bring him back just to kill him again.” He mutters.

“That’s what I was thinking.” Alternate Keith says with a small grin. “Killing him though would have defeated the purpose.”

Keith hits his head against the back wall. “I can’t believe I’m in love with an idiot.”

“Oh you think you have it bad? At least yours is staying safe.”

Keith whips his head towards is counterpart. “He deduced where I was during the clone fight and could have gotten his ass killed. I almost had a heart attack.”

“He protected you though. Gotta give him that. “

“I do. But sometimes I wish he wasn’t so selfless. He has a family back home. They all do.” Including Shiro. He doesn’t talk about his immediate family, but he has told Keith about his boyfriend Adam, who he was set to marry until the Kerberos mission tore them apart. They broke up, but Keith believed after being gone for over a year, maybe two, they would slowly mend the tear in their relationship. Strangers, to friends, to lovers. If he could find Shiro in his reality, all would be well. Keith, on the other hand, doesn’t have a family waiting for him. It is what the others don’t understand. Why he struggles answering their questions on his impulsivity. 

It’s not that he wants death. He just doesn’t have anyone to fight for from Earth. His family, the people he has grown to care for, is the team. But being aware of this means his knack for throwing himself in danger increases, for his family is out on the battlefield as well. He will do anything to keep them safe and bring them back home. 

If he is lost in the fray for their survival, so be it.

“You have a family too.”

“I know.”

“You should see them. They are camping outside your pod.”

Keith’s eyes flash to him, his mouth hanging open. “What?”

Alternate Keith did not respond. Rather, he raises his hand and swipes at the air, a hole in the space he touched wavering into a picture dotted with green, yellow, blue, pink, black, orange, and purple. Glasses slide haphazardly off a button nose, computer blackening into sleep mode. Tufts of strawberry blonde hair crook to the shoulder of green and orange sleeves, his lanky arms and legs covered by a blue fleece blanket. Dark locks decorated with an orange strap leans against the pod, loud snores entering into the atmosphere, occasionally mumbling about food goo. Four tiny mice, all varying in size and shape, has burrow themselves in the elongated, soft tendrils of white mass sprawled on the floor. She lays there, fast asleep in a tiny ball, rid of the tension of her bun and the weight of the galaxy. And the man with the twirly mustache and usual bright eyes was tapping away at the pod, not once pausing in his endeavors. 

Then there is Keith, floating in a pod, unaware of the people surrounding him out of concern and unconditional love.

His chest tightens. Suddenly Keith’s cool demeanor began to crumble away, his gloved hand reaching out to the scene. The ice around his beating heart, the chain link fence surrounding his body, the fiery bite of his voice, the ragged, war torn hiss of his being which rejected any form of affection or potential for friendships and relationships turns to dust. He thought the visit to his counterpart’s grave was nerve wracking enough, but no. He is wrong.

Death isn’t showing him what he has. It is life, and how fragile, yet important it was. The loneliness he had felt ever since his father died, and the cold brokenness he embraced as he came to believe his mother never wanted him, melts away. Something drips onto his cheeks, and after he raises his hand to touch it did he realize it was coming from him. He is crying. He hardly ever cries, yet here he was, shook to the core. 

“They love you.” Alternate Keith quietly remarks. “They are scared for you.”

Keith places a hand on his abdomen, the memory of the pain vivid and too bright. The taste of copper looming in his throat, the sharp jab in his ribs; he is alright in the land of limbo, but if he focuses hard enough, he can still feel his physical self’s slow healing over fatal wounds. 

He swipes at his eyes with his other hand, keeping his attention away from his counterpart. 

“Coran, any luck?” A hushed, female voice asks through the makeshift portal. Keith turns back to it, both him and his counterpart curious.

Coran sighs and shakes his head at alternate Allura. “I’m afraid not. These pods are ancient. If they had been catered throughout ten thousand years, I may have been able to find a way to increase the quintessence field without a trip to the Balmera and other such planets. But considering we are low on time, and the system doesn’t match up with my endeavors, Keith’s state still remains at a whopping fourteen quintants. Maybe more. His injuries....” He turns to her, switching off his device and eyes exhausted. “They are worse than I have anticipated. Compared to the arena survivors we rescued and Lance’s brush with a bomb, he is in a critical state. If we open this pod, he will not survive.”

Alternate Allura hangs her head, looking towards the team sleeping away, dreaming of good beginnings and sweet possibilities. She gently puts her hand on the healing pod, staring up at Keith’s peaceful expression.

“We cannot keep him here.”

“We may not have a choice, princess. His survival rate is extremely low if he goes through the rift in such a state.” He clears his throat. “Pardon my coming question, princess, but wouldn’t you and the team be happy to have him here?”

She gives him a grave stare. “We would, but he wouldn’t.” She turns back to Keith. “His place is no longer with us. Though we are similar to his reality’s teammates, we are not the same people he travelled and fought with. He would not have a lion, going back to the Blade and wishing he could return to his universe. We would be forcing fate to correct an event we believe is an error, and ultimately sentence the other team to our pain in return. We would be sacrificing their happiness for ours.That is not what we are about, dear Coran.” She palms his cheek in a daughter-like affection, taking it away as soon as he nods in understanding. 

She faces the pod again, but her eyebrows raise in curiosity as she gazes upon the contraption.

“Coran, you said it is powered by quintessence, correct?”

“A portion of it, yes. It is a small portion, hence the long recovery.”

“Pull up his diagnostics again.” She says, moving to the back of the pod as to not disturb the others. “Keep an eye on it. I have an idea.”

“Oooookay.” He opens up the page, raising an interested eyebrow. “What is this about?”

“You shall see. Now, keep an eye on it.”

Hesitantly, she raises her hands and places them, palms flat, atop the smooth, cold surface. She closes her eyes, breathing in slow as she concentrates. To Keith and Coran, it seems as if she were doing nothing but thinking long and hard, contemplating an idea only she knows. Then gradually, as if kissed by a goddess, her Altean marks and body began to glow a luminescent blue hue, brighter than that of the blue lion. The pod itself is doused in this energy, it flowing freely from her hands and the diagnostics Coran pulled up whirling awake. 

Coran analyzes the change in the diagnostics. His eyes widen. “Princess! He’s healing!” He taps away at the screen. “Yes, it’s slow, but much faster than before. His organ tissue is developing at a quicker pace, and his bone marrow is rejuvenating.”

“How fast?” Allura asks, strain as sweat beads at her hairline, eyes still closed and producing quintessence.

“Hmm...” He presses a couple of buttons. “Not fast enough. It would take him down to eleven quintants, but not nearly the amount we need.”

Alternate Allura ceases her actions, out of breath, but alright. “Then we will need someone with more quintessence. I have an abundance, but if not careful it can kill me.”

Coran turns off the diagnostic application and tends to alternate Allura, patting her head like he is comforting a scolded child. “Rest, Princess. Tomorrow we will find a way.”

“You’re right.” She smiles at Coran, happy he is with her. “You too Coran. Everyone is a bit out of shape at the moment. We still have ten more vargas.”

They exit the premises, and unbeknownst to them, the former blue paladin stares down the hallway they exited to. He sighs to himself, relieved at the tiny silver lining in Keith’s predicament. He hasn’t been able to sleep, not with the stress looming over him as a sinister fog. As his consciousness remained active, him hearing alternate Allura and Coran’s breakthrough washes his body with ease. They may not have to leave Keith afterall. They are short on time, yes, but if all he can do is hope to the universe for mercy, then that is what he shall do.

“You’re a troublemaker.” Lance says to Keith, narrowing his eyes at the comatose boy.

“You better make it out of there in one piece, or I’m so kicking your ass in the afterlife.”

He couldn’t help it--Keith laughs. Hearty and wet. The tears had stopped long ago, but a tear squeezed out from fondness and desire to not have Lance’s hope be in vain. 

The image began to waver, and as the picture of Lance reaching into his shirt to fumble with the balmeran crystal and he scratches Pidge’s head out of brotherly care, alternate Keith presses a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

He is met with a kind smile and easy indigo orbs. “You have a way out. No need to worry anymore.”

“It isn’t set in stone,” Keith replies, dwelling on Allura’s drained body. “She needs more quintessence. But there is hope, I will give them that.” He closes his eyes, leaning back once again. “I want to go home.”

“You will.” 

“Mmmm...” Keith opens his eyes to look over the map. But as he did, he saw from the corner of his eye a blue glint. He sizes up alternate Keith, who just stared back at him in confusion, Keith’s stare gaze settling on the middle of his chest.

“The Balmeran crystal. It made its way to you.”

Alternate Keith looks down and takes it in his hand delicately, as if he were handling fine china. “Oh, yeah. Anything brought to my grave can appear here. Including Hunk’s slice of cake.”

He points to the desk holding an empty plate with bits of cake crumbs and slathering spots of raspberry filling.

“So long as they are intended for the dead, there is a way for us to receive it.”

“You were there at the visit, weren’t you?” Keith asks.

Alternate Keith kept his attention on the crystal. “Kinda hard not to be.”

Keith knows what it is about, which came as no surprise as alternate Keith delves into the matter.

“They did it last year too, a month after my death. Except Hunk couldn’t bring himself to make a cake, and the team sat there in silence, Allura planting an alien flower regardless of it being doomed to die due to the harsh climate of the cemetery. Pidge wouldn’t let go of Matt, Shiro stared into the ground, as if I were going to pop out any moment and say ‘gotcha!’ “ He bitterly laughs. “And Lance...God, he was so different. There were tears in his eyes, but what stood out most was the raw anger and resentment he held. The boy I love had disappeared. I tried talking to him, though I knew inside it wouldn’t work. Waved my hands around his face, palm his face, tossle his flimsy hair...but my form only went right through him. I am the spirit, yet he was colder than I.”

“That’s how we handle grief. Quiet anger and despair.”

“Well Lance should be different.” alternate Keith bit. “I’m supposed to be the moody, hotheaded one. Not him.”

Keith let him steam. Let him dwell on the unchanging past, for though he may be like himself, he too knows reasoning with him can be difficult. Keith overall is hard to handle, and while he does know the crooks and crannies of his mirrored soul, he knows when to speak up or stay silent. It reminds him of when he lost his father; how he was lost and angry at the world, asking why it decided to take away the part of him that made him feel normal and unbroken. Loss, grief, overall pain is like that. Some cry, others steam, waiting for the day they boil over and explode, the metal piercing their very own hearts and those of others. There is shards of metal imbedded in every inch of your body, and you couldn’t take it out because you didn’t have pliers to pull them out, or they are so deep inside your skin pulling at them would be useless. You may be able to find some, but the time of which you extract each and every shard varies. Keith is still pulling them out from the death of his father, and he does not doubt alternate Lance is doing the same thing.

Except this time, he has a little help.

“He’s healing.” Keith says, hesitant at first. “It’s slow, but he is tending to himself. You know as well as I how much a burden death is.”

“Don’t I know it.” Alternate Keith says dryly. In any other circumstance, it would have been a funny pun. However, they do not have the privilege of joking about death.

“Um...” Keith starts, hesitant. “Is there...Is there anything you want me to tell him?”

Alternate Keith becomes weary. “I am not sure if that is such a good idea. You say he is tending to himself, but wouldn’t me sending a message revert him back into a pained state?”

Keith shook his head. He doesn’t believe Lance would give up all his progress for a message. If anything, Keith believes he would be emotional, but thankful. Maybe it would close some doors he has left open--close the doors asking why fate was so cruel. If his Keith is okay, and if he is allowed to move on. Most importantly, maybe his biggest question on alternate Keith being answered would set him free.

“I think it would help. Hurt, but help. You see, he and my Lance keep asking the same question.” He chances a glance at his rigid counterpart. “Why didn’t you say goodbye?”

“I thought you explained it to him.”

“Depends. Are our thoughts completely the same, or do they differ?” Keith cocks his head to the side, awaiting an answer. 

“Typical me.” Alternate Keith comments, a slight curve of a smile on his lips. Seeing as how his counterpart is leaning back against the bed, he mirrors his body and lays beside him, staring up at the ceiling and fingers laced together upon his stomach. He didn’t meet Keith’s gaze, but he didn’t need to. Him talking is just enough.

“I didn’t say goodbye for two reasons: one, I would have hesitated, thus dooming them all.”

“So my reason.” 

Alternate Keith points upward, as if to stop Keith’s train of thought. “Yes, but also no.”

“Then what’s the second reason?”

His hand falls and he continues staring up at the ceiling, taking his time to answer the question. “I didn’t want Lance’s last memory of me to be of me saying goodbye.” He spoke so softly, Keith had to really pay attention and ignore the background noise of the wind to hear him. 

“I didn’t want to hurt him anymore than I already have. I didn’t want any of them to live with that last memory; those words etched into their mind like carvings on a pyramid. I was already going to throw them into despair, did I really want to vocally announce my departure too?” He moves his head towards Keith, light amethyst reflecting the sun meeting dark, galaxy indigo. “If dad spoke dying words to you, wouldn’t you want to erase it from your memory?”

Keith’s last memory of his father was him leaving in the morning, kissing the top of Keith’s head as he ventured to work, claiming he would be back by nightfall. Keith was fourteen, and while he didn’t like kisses out of a way to prove his adulthood, he didn’t shudder that day. It was like something--the universe, God, destiny--told him to smile back at his dad and wish him luck. 

His last words were a false promise of safety. If he heard his father utter a goodbye, Keith would have been more devastated than he was when a couple of firemen and child protective services arrived at his front door. The soothingly told him he was going to a boys home, where he will find friends in similar situations. Keith wanted to believe them, wanted to see a shining light in the darkness he was thrust into at such a tender age. But they spoke nothing but lies. Keith wished for his father back every day, until he came to the conclusion the universe had forsaken him. The universe and his mother, who he never got the chance to ask his father about. 

Ask why he was never good enough for her to stay.

“Think I would have been more fucked up than I am now.”

Alternate Keith moves onto his side and, with a clear, serious face, says “Shiro would scold you for such language.”

“Shiro can deal, the old man.” Keith jokes. The two laugh, amusement over Shiro disapproving of both the Keiths choice in words in the past. They both have a past of being rebellious, said rebellion not excluding them cussing out teachers and, occasionally, screaming “fuck” upon stubbing their toes. 

Keith, enjoying the short lived happiness, solemnly fell back to reality. “So...What would you like me to tell them?”

\----------------------------------------

“Your clothes are too big.”

“How is that even possible??? We are the same height.”

Pidge narrows her eyes at her other self. “Are you trying to overcompensate for something?”

Alternate Pidge looks at her counterpart as if she were in the office. “That’s Lance’s thing.”

“Hey!” A familiar yell came from the doorway. He is followed by alternate Shiro, no longer wearing his paladin armor. “I resent that, Pigeon.” He grabs her into a very light chokehold and noogies the top of her head, alternate Pidge screeching in outrage. 

“This is violence against women! Unhand me you fiend!”

Matt comes up from behind alternate Lance and flicks his ear. “Only I can suspend my little sister to a lifetime of noogies.”

“Fuck you, Matt!”

“Aw, love you too, sis.” Matt teases, alternate Pidge kicking at her brother, ignoring her confining predicament. Alternate Lance lets go and ruffles her hair, it much longer and more susceptible to tangles. She huffs from the assault, but before she could beat him senseless verbally, he wraps her and her counterpart in a hug.

“I’m glad you both are okay. I heard the news and came straight over.” 

Both Pidges hug him back, equally relieved. 

“It’s good for you to be around.” Alternate Pidge says softly. Matt responds by squeezing harder, well aware of the amount of pain she has been in, and how her other self isn’t at her best either. He glances up at the filled pod, tensing as he sees the huge gash in Keith’s abdomen.

“How is he?” He asks, pulling away. His gaze did not leave the pod.

Pidge grimly informs him of his condition. It has been a varga since they put him in, and so far Coran has come up dry in his endeavors to heal Keith faster. She informs Matt of the time issue, her voice taking on a thickness not common in Pidge.

“He goes through the rift in this condition, he’s dead. We leave him here, we won’t ever see him again. We are in a lose/lose situation.”

“And I’m suspecting he has to pilot the black lion rather than remain in the pod during transport.” Matt adds, hope slowly dissipating. 

“Correct. He is the only one who can pilot the black lion, and we need to form voltron in order to safely get through.” She glides her finger tips atop the glass, looking up helplessly at Keith, coming up empty with a potential solution. “We don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.” Her hand forms into a fist. “I’m the fucking tech genius and I can’t do shit.”

“Pidge,” Shiro begins, a soothing, calm tone. He is by Coran, looking over the diagnostics with him and discussing ways of manipulating the pods when he noticed Pidge’s frustration. He makes his way over to the two Pidges, both equal in their talents and emotions.

He kneels in front of them, arms resting on his knee. “This is not your fault. Don’t put all the work on your shoulders, you’re only 15.” He moves his gaze to alternate Pidge. “And 16. We will find a way, but for now everyone needs to rest.”

“I don’t think rest is possible...” Alternate Lance says, eyeing the pod in silent mourning for his other self.

“Try to.” He stands up and scans the room, taking note of the missing figures. “Where is Hunk and Lance?”

“Lance left to change.” Allura answers, saddening at the mention of Lance. “He wasn’t in good shape. Hunk followed him to see if he will be alright.” 

“Hunk also went in the direction of the kitchen.” Alternate Pidge says, explaining alternate Hunk’s whereabouts as well. “I checked on him a few minutes ago. He stress bakes but...all I saw him doing was staring into a bowl.”

“That’s Hunk.” Alternate Lance says, looking in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m going to go check on him. Let me know if anything changes?”

“Sure thing.” Replies alternate Pidge. After Alternate Lance had exit, alternate Allura returns, having left for her chambers, hands void of her staff and outfit changed into her regular attire. There are bags under her eyes, but besides that she portrayed a veil of charge and determination. She narrows her eyes a the scene before her.

“Why aren’t you all resting? Conserving one’s energy is vital to a paladin’s sustainability.”

“They want to stay here,” Coran answers the princess, leaning in with his leg hiked up, a dramatic and unnecessary action. But very Coran like. “Said earlier they feel more comfortable sleeping near the pods.”

“He is correct,” Alternate Allura’s counterpart joins. “It does not feel right leaving Keith alone.”

Alternate Allura shakes her head, but does not argue. She understands where they are coming from, and a part of her does want to stay behind as well; keep an eye on the pod with Coran and be ready for anything to go wrong. But she needs to sort out a solution to their time dilemma. She has a small stack of Altean alchemy books her father once owned, stored at the bottom of her bed where she discovered them upon awakening from her ten thousand year slumber. She has read them before, but maybe there was something she missed. Maybe she can figure a solution out with Shiro and Coran. Shiro did say her race is far more advanced than the Earthen species. They may have abilities they are completely unaware of to use on the pods.

“Alright, well, then Shiro, come help me retrieve blankets and pillows. We have more stored in an unused room.”

Alternate Shiro follows her to the room and Allura requests to tag along, leaving the two Pidges and Matt to converse. Rather than do that, the Pidges watch as Coran continues his search, the Altean man nervously sweating at the audience. Matt shook his head, flicking them behind the ears.

“You two are making him nervous. Sit down and talk to your brother. Who, by the way, you haven’t seen in forever?”

“To be exact,” Alternate Pidge says. “I found you over a year ago. Your argument is invalid.”

He grabs at his heart and gasps. “Pidge! You wound me. My own flesh and blood!”

The original Pidge chuckles, tired but has room for some enjoyment. 

Matt, having nothing to do, sits on the floor and crosses his legs criss-cross applesauce style. He waves to them to follow his lead, earning him confused and suspicious looks.

“You have Keith on your mind still. Why don’t you tell me a story with him? It may help.” He says to mostly the other Pidge, rather than the alternate version. Matt is aware it has been a long time since their Keith’s demise, he still isn’t sure if his sister is open to talking about him outside of memorials and birthdays. 

“O-oh, um...” She falters, not expecting the request. Pidge joins Matt on the floor, alternate Pidge soon following after debating internally if she should be doing this rather than help Coran. Seeing as technically nothing else she could do with the situation--and Coran’s adamant proposal for her and the rest of the gang to go back to their rooms--she leans against Matt’s side and awaits her counterpart’s story.

“Uh...Well, I have one.” She taps her chin, humming. “You may have all my memories, other me. But Matt asked so.”

She shrugs. “It’s fine, go ahead. I don’t think I have told Matt everything when I found him and Shiro. What with him and the rebels.”

She avoids stating the other reason was because of alternate Keith’s death.

“Alright, so you remember the time Keith exposed his Galra heritage?” Pidge starts. 

“Vividly.”

“Well, when he exposed this information, he began to avoid me like the plague. Every time I walked into the room, he would make up some bullshit excuse about him needing to train, or how he was tired. Even though it would be, by Earth times, five o’clock. He was iffy about everyone, but mostly Allura and I.”

“We were the most affected by the Galra at the time, besides Shiro.” Alternate Pidge states. 

“Exactly. And with Allura putting him on ice, he wasn’t about to join forces with anyone. Minus the big robot we form.”

“Were you giving him the stink eye? Because I have seen you give stink eyes. They are brutal.” Matt comments. Pidge kicks him  playfully, Matt yelping and acting as if he were to hide behind alternate Pidge. 

“I am speaking, hush. Anyway. The answer is no, I did not give him the stink eye. In fact, I was professional.” She adjusts her glasses, swelling with pride. “It wasn’t his fault he was galra. You can’t exactly choose your race, nor being born.”

As she spoke, her confidence fades into softer, concerned tone. “I could tell he hated who he was. He knew what he was, but that didn’t mean he liked it. The Galra has committed mass genocide and enslaved many planets. The Blade of Marmora themselves weren’t considered heroes, like how Allura viewed Keith. He distanced himself, going so far as to skip meals from time to time, to not even speaking at our small meetings to discuss our next move. It...It really worried me.”

What did you do?” Matt wonders.

Pidge’s melancholy demeanor dissipates as a shit eating grin consumes her face. “He tends to forget to lock his bedroom door, so I hid under his bed until he returned.”

“Oh my god. You’re an actual gremlin. My sister is a gremlin and I never knew. Please tell me he screamed.”

“He did. His scream was loud enough to wake up Lance.” Pidge titters to herself, basking in the memory of Keith’s terrified face. “I should know, his room is next door to Keith’s and I heard him yelp and tumble off his bed.”

“Oh my God, I remember that!” Alternate Pidge pipes up, smiling wide and giggling. “Lance ran out of the room with only his robe believing Keith was being murdered and tripped. He faceplanted so hard.”

“He griped about breaking his nose for a week.” Pidge says, rolling her eyes. The smile remains on her face, however. Lance has funny quirks, and while Pidge can be immune to his acts, he is a breath of fresh air among all the carnage. “Keith told him he was fine and that it was just me. Tried to kick me out with Lance, but I wasn’t budging. Keith was blushing like a tomato, as if,” Pidge lowers her voice into a whisper. “As if he just confessed to Lance. I’m sorry, those two are pining big time, I’m no fool.”

“Oh I KNOW.” Alternate Pidge agrees, leaning back on the heels of her hands and cocking her head to the side, going through her mental checklist of romantic potential. “Hunk and I gossiped about it whenever we could.”

“Same. But it kind of dulled down when Keith left.” Pidge screws her lips up. “Now that I think about it, he was less interactive and more mission focused...” She turns her head towards the hallway where her reality’s Lance resides, him and Hunk still not returned. 

“I should hug him...he looks like he could need it...” Pidge says, more to herself. Pidge isn’t the most affectionate type. Not compared to Hunk or Matt, considering she is a lover of tech and a bit of a social outcast. Back at home, her friend circle was nonexistent, her books and computer the only semblance of a life she could get. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to make friends, she just had a very difficult time connecting with other humans. Ones who liked to shop at the mall or play a game of laser tag. She was a homebody--still is one, the difference being she is now in space rather on the dusty plains of Earth. 

But then she met Lance and Hunk, and eventually Keith, Shiro, Allura, and Coran. She ventured along the atmosphere of various planets, meeting several species and befriending the Olkari. They shouted insults at each other and played video games late at night, even though Shiro told them to sleep for the next day’s training session. They kicked each others asses during training sequences, yet saved one another from ion cannons and well trained Galra soldiers in and out of the lions. 

She acts like a little shit and playfully insults them, but never has she regret their fated meeting. She loves them and would die for them. To see one critically injured and the other emotionally in agony, it makes a side to Pidge emerge. Her protective, sisterly side; the part of her willing to suck away their pain if able, if given the chance. 

She can’t take it all away, however. She is a fifteen year old girl, barely making it as a soldier. 

What she can do, on the other hand, is be there to the best of her ability. Whether it is awkward and informal, she doesn’t care. As long as she tells them in her own way she loves them, and that they are not alone.

A hand touches her knee and she snaps back to her watchers. Matt, the owner of the hand, gives her a comforting pat and smiles kindly at her.

“I’m sure he will appreciate it. He will be back soon, sis.”

“I hope so. He is taking awhile.” She worries, glancing again at the hallway he had exited. 

“Lance is...difficult to comfort.” Alternate Pidge says, careful with what she says. “He has an Atlas complex. He holds his burdens as if they were the world, believing he should handle it on his own. Our Lance is opening up to us, but not without effort.” 

“Even in this reality he is a stubborn mule.” Pidge says begrudgingly.

“Yeah, but he is our stubborn mule.” Alternate Pidge smiles, smiling past the exhaustion she is slowly feeling. “Why don’t you continue with your story? Who knows, maybe he will come in right at the good part and put his two cents in.” 

Pidge giggles, a hand against her mouth. “A pure Lance entrance. Okay so where was I...” She starts again, sorting out her next route of storytelling. “Ah yes, me under the bed. After Lance viciously knocked on Keith’s door with his bayard in hand, Keith explained it was just me, throwing a few curse words in his explanation. I think half of Lance’s face mask was scrubbed off from the impact of him falling off his bed. He wouldn’t let me live down his ruined face routine for a week.”

“That reminds me when I stole his face cream on april fools. It was a classic.” Alternate Pidge includes, an evil spark in her amber eyes. “A story for another time. But if you want an idea for next april fools, there you go.”

“You are truly the epitome of evil.” Matt says, narrowing his eyes. He then smiles with her. “I love it.”

After some witty banter and laughing on their part, Pidge goes back to her story, trying to keep them on topic. By the time she finishes, it would already be time to leave. This is what happens when Holts meet Holts--neverending schemes and free spirited laughs.

Pidge goes back to her narrative, describing the awkward sexual tension between the two as Keith calmed his jumbled nerves. Lance eventually left, content with Keith being alright, but not leaving without saying his skin is going to break out now that his life saving agenda became a ruse. Keith rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile as he closes his door. 

“He was distant, at first. Short with his words, simply asking what I needed. It was strange, seeing him uncomfortable. Not only was he distant emotionally, but he practically hugged the wall as I sat on his bed. I asked him why he was so weird with us, and Keith being Keith, claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about. That is, until I mentioned him being galra.” Pidge’s eyes downcast, sad as she reflects on the memory. “He was scared. He went rigid and his eyes practically screamed he expected rejection. Like I was there to yell at him and curse him for who birthed him. It hurt, because you can tell, much like Lance, how he felt out of place. To come to find out not only he is seen as a loner, but officially a Galra, it’s like finding out your family was responsible for the murdering of a person. He saw me as a judge, not a friend.”

“Sounds like Keith...” Alternate Pidge says, quiet. Matt moves to sling an arm around her shoulders, a half embrace. Her gaze finds Keith in the pod once more, searching for an answer to a question she did not need to voice. 

“I actually confronted him on his attitude as of late. I asked why he was avoiding me. Avoiding the team. No one really knew how to approach him on the matter, except Shiro. He told us he will open up when ready, but I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t sit around watching as he tiptoed, afraid of slipping on glass not seen by anyone but him. He was confused; shocked, if I must say. I don’t think he ever expected to be confronted on something having to do with him being a problem and not have an immediate response ready. He remained quiet, silently denying my words.”

“What did you say?” Matt asks. 

“I said ‘I’m not stupid, Keith. You’re Galra--part Galra, and while Allura isn’t being supportive of you, it doesn’t mean I hate you’. And you want to know what he said? What he had the audacity to respond with?” Pidge partially rants, annoyance leaking into her easy, blunt tone. “He said I had the right to, like Allura.” She scoffs, as if it were a cruel joke. “To tell me to hate him. To say I had the right--I was practically insulted. He’s my friend, did he have no concept of what friendship consist of? While Allura was justified, it didn’t make it okay.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Yes, with a couple swear words sprinkled here and there. Mayyyyybe.”

“Language!” Matt scolds.

“Oh bite me, Mr. F-bomb every time I step on a lego.”

“She got you there.” Alternate Pidge chimes, earning herself a light shove. 

“I taught you too well in the ways of snark.” Matt jokingly scolds. Alternate Pidge shrugs, accepting her fate as a bad influence and taking on the crown of mischief. 

“I bet Keith was shocked by your declaration.” Alternate Pidge assumes.

Her counterpart nods, his wide eyes and hanging jaw flashing through her mind. “It was as if I burned him. It practically broke my heart knowing he expected rejection than actual true friendship. He is smart, but the whole situation was stupid. I didn’t know whether to kick his ass or give him a hug. Instead, I grabbed his wrist and sat him next to me on the bed, making him look at me as I stared him down. Who knew a warrior like him would be turned into a puddle of nerves. I told him he was my friend; my brother. The Galra did take away my father and brother, and I had a right to hate them for what they had done. They tore my mother and I apart. They stole pieces of our souls. But as he began to squirm and say how he needed to train, I told him something I say rarely. Unless you’re family, of course.” Pidge adds in, maintaining her air of distance. A fond look settles on her features, however; her heart swelling at the memory. “I told him I loved him, and not even him being Galra can get in the way of that. He wasn’t responsible for their actions. He never, not once, wished ill will upon a race or us, his friends. He’s part Galra, and that’s okay. I could not hate someone who has constantly protected the team and I. He is Galra, but like the Blade, he is on our team. He is who I go to for training exercises. Who I ask in the middle of the night if he wants to explore the stars, and who reassured me that the nightmares I had about my brother and father will never come to pass.” 

She turns to Keith’s unconscious form with a small smile.

“He’s not the loner I deemed him to be. He was speechless at my handling of the situation. He didn’t expect me to be open still. He went so far as to ask if Shiro put me up to it.” 

“What a doofus.” Alternate Pidge says, eyes downcast and void of a smile as oppose to her other self. 

“As I recall, you two stayed up talking until way past your bedtime.” An affectionate voice says from the hallway behind Pidge. They turn, seeing none other than Lance and Hunk. They were tired, lines under their eyes and tear-stained cheeks trailing down Lance’s face. They walk as if they finished a recent battle, bruised and battered, but not defeated in the slightest. Lance leans against the wall besides Keith’s pod, heavy lids and a ghost of a smile. Hunk sat besides Pidge, yawning as he did so.

“How long have you been eavesdropping?” Pidge accuses, a light blush dusting her cheeks. 

Lance chuckles. “Long enough. Telling stories about Keith, I see. Nice to see you have a squishie side, Pidgeon.”

Pidge grumbles to herself about being a victim of Lance’s dumb assumptions, but did not fight him on it. 

He lifts himself from the wall and sits by her, gently coaxing her to continue her tale with a supportive glance. Hunk joins him, allowing Lance to lean on him as if he were a pillow. He is the softest of the group. Not only does he hold the title as best hugger in the universe, but also the best human pillow. Lance always used him as a place to sleep when the garrison really cranked out the tests for them, exhausting each cadet to the core. He recalls the moment where he fell asleep with a textbook on his face, body splayed on the floor, but head resting on Hunk’s belly. 

Hunk responds to Lance’s leaning with a light flick of his ear, but did not move away from the former blue paladin. He doesn’t mind. It is natural for him. Besides, all his energy has been spent on fighting the clone and aiding Lance. He has no more room to resist basic affection, which he loves anyway. 

“What did you guys talk about?” Hunk questions, curious as to what the red paladin could have opened up to.

Pidge turns to the glass displaying the galaxy before them, a far off look in her eyes.

“We talked about home. Keith had a hard time missing it, since he doesn’t have anyone waiting for him there. But he did yearn for a couple of things.”

“Like?”

“Hmm...” Pidge hums. “He will probably kill me when he finds out I divulge private information to outsiders, but considering he gave me a scare and I’m a minor, he can’t do anything about it.” Pidge evilly states. Hunk and Lance just shook their heads. 

She moves her gaze to Keith, as if she were talking to him rather than the others. “He missed the smell of the desert, warm gushes of wind flowing through his hair as he practiced different techniques on his motorcycle. He missed real food, which lets face it, we all do. Space goo is gross.” She side comments. “But most of all? He missed talking to his dad, bringing flowers to his grave whenever he was able and tell him about his week. He was considered a weird kid for it by most, yet those who had lost a family member or friend never picked on him. They understood his pain more than anyone else. I told him how I missed my family. How my mom is probably going to kill me when I get back, since I technically ran away.” She makes a nervous face at the thought, not looking forward to her hypothetical death when the day comes for them to return to earth.

“Fuck,” Alternate Pidge swore. “I forgot what is waiting for me at home. Matt I’m dead, dead I tell you!” She drops her head in her hands, dreading her fate. Matt rubs comforting circles on her back.

“Nah, she will only half kill you. I got your back.”

“Thanks.” She says, no real appreciation in her tone.

As she says that, Shiro and the Alluras walk in, arms overflowing with blankets and pillows for each of the paladins. They hand them out, not surprisingly handing them their paladin colors. Pidge immediately wraps herself into a blanket burrito, the tufts of her hair being the only part of her peeking out from her neck. With her small body she one blanket sufficed for ultimate burrito wrapping. Hunk and Lance make more of a nest, taking several blankets to plop on each other. And Allura, who held two blankets, eases herself besides the pod. Little to her knowledge the alternate space mice burrowed their way into the blankets, popping out as she settles them beside her. She giggles at the scene, kissing each on the head and requesting alternate Allura if the space mice could stay for the night. With an amused smile, she nodded, not seeing a problem with leaving the mice in good hands. They are both of their pets, afterall. 

“What were you all talking about before we came in?” Shiro asks, raising a dark eyebrow.

“Pidge was telling us about her bonding moment with Keith.” Hunk answers. “Unlike this one over here.” He nudges Lance’s side, a knowing stare.

Lance bristles. “I panicked!”

Hunk pats his shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, buddy. You’ll be able to admit it to Keith when he comes out of the pod.”

Lance, reminded of their grim situation, lays back and stares up at Keith’s sleeping form, his brows creased upward in worry. “I hope you’re right, Hunk. I hope you’re right.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Allura starts, meeting Lance’s eyes with questions written in them. “Why did you deny Keith’s bond with you? You two weren’t the closest, but he looked...sad. I don’t quite know how you Eartheans handle emotions and friendship, but from my perspective he was happy to actually connect with you.”

Lance hugs his knees under the blanket, staring down the blue fabric. He chews at his lip, contemplating Allura’s straightforward question. 

“I...don’t quite know. I think I was scared of what it would mean. I used the rivalry to communicate with him. Though I knew he never saw it as a rivalry. Here was the guy I antagonized, and he is being genuine with me? Wanting to bond? I didn’t understand the feeling I felt in my gut. So I went with a natural response: denying it all.” His arms tighten around his knees. “I didn’t think it would affect him much.”

“You should have heard him ranting to me,” Shiro inputs, his lips curving into a an entertained smile. “Went off for about an hour. He was ready to verse a level 6 training sequence when he couldn’t get past level 3 yet.”

Lance buries his face in the blanket. “He was that mad, huh?”

“Fuming,” Shiro declares. “But forgiving. He got his revenge when Nyma tricked you.”

“Oh I remember that,” Allura reminisces with a tinkling laugh. “We had to cut through those handcuffs with a special tool Coran had lying around.”

“Shiro scolded Keith for leaving Lance a little longer than expected on the planet,” Pidge snickers. “Lance thought he was going to die.”

“I was!” Lance exclaims loudly, a pout growing as the conversation advanced. “I was here for at least ten hours.”

“You were there for two hours, and you came out fine.” Shiro corrects, grinning as Lance did not take his facts lightly.

“It was still traumatic for my poor heart,” Alternate Lance says from behind Shiro. The black paladin jumps, not expecting a voice to come from behind him. He had alternate Hunk in tow, carrying some weird fruit slices on a platter.

“Is everything alright, Hunk?” Shiro asks in concern. “Lance left in a hurry, and I was going to check on you, but didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Yeah, I’m doing better,” Alternate hunk assures, a wobbly curve of his lips. “Lance and I talked for a bit. He helped me slice these up.” Alternate Hunk raises the platter of strange fruit in emphasis. 

“Er, Hunk,” Alternate Allura starts. “That fruit is usually consumed as a sleep aid. Not for enjoyment.”

“I know,” alternate Hunk says. “I cut them in small enough pieces where it would relax them, rather than knock them into a coma. I figured they may...need help sleeping after today.” He nervously finishes. “Plus I couldn’t really make anything right now.”

“Hmm...Alright, but only if they want it.” Alternate Allura advises. “Those are difficult to find and are to be used for the serum. Just this once, Hunk.”

“Yesssss moooommm,” Hunk quips. He sets the plate on a nearby chair. “If you think it will help you, take one. But you aren’t obligated to. You have a big day tomorrow. This will be the last time we see you all. You should be in your best state.”

“He is right,” Alternate Allura joins. “Regardless of the situation, you all must leave this reality. In order to leave, you have to be physically well. Or else travelling through the rift will prove difficult and dangerous.”

“Even if we have to leave Keith?” Lance asks, not looking up. Alternate Allura said nothing, for Shiro intervened before she could.

“You aren’t leaving here without him. Allura, Coran, and I will see to it.” Shiro assures kindly, understanding Lance’s thoughts.

“I want to help too,” Alternate Lance states, determined. “I’m not standing back for a third time.”

“Same here.” Alternate Pidge says.

“Agreed, I’m with you.” Hunk says.

Alternate Allura widens her eyes, but nevertheless, smiles at her team. “Okay. I still want you to sleep a little bit, but you will help me go through my Altean texts. I have a translator if you need it. We should start on it as soon as we can.”

“Lets get to it.” Alternate Lance says. “We have eleven vargas, lets get Keith home.”

With that said, he turns from the team and leaves, heading in the direction of Allura’s room. Alternate Matt, alternate Hunk, and alternate Pidge follow suit, leaving behind Shiro and alternate Allura, internally preparing themselves for a long mission outside of the lions and their armor. 

Alternate Allura and Shiro turn to leave until, a small feebly voice rises from the quiet room. 

“Um...Shiro?” Lance says, hushed. “Before you leave, can you tell us a story with you and Keith? It may help us sleep.” He pulls the blankets farther up his face, practically covering himself. “Actually ignore me I’m being dumb--”

“I’m with Lance on this one.” Allura says evenly, reaching over and gently prying the blanket from his face. “Do not hide, Lance. There is nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiles. “I too would like to hear one more story.”

Pidge looks up at Shiro with big, round, fake teary eyes. “Please, Shiro? I already did the storytelling, and you’re the dad figure.”

“She’s got you there.” Hunk inputs, straightening up for Shiro’s answer and trying to push for what they desire.

Shiro blinks, chuckling after a good minute and folds his arms in on himself. “Alright. But only one.” He faces alternate Allura. “Would you be fine without me for a bit?”

She gazes back at the other team, seeing their pleading looks and anxious stance. Her heart melts at the scene, taking note of the love of their teammate oozing from their pores. She couldn’t help but give them a gentle look. She lays a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, dark eyes meeting vibrant aquamarine. 

“Take as long as you need. I’ll be with the others.”

She squeezes his shoulder in support. Then turns around and leaves, having her own mission she must complete, despite her desire to stay. Eleven vargas. Not enough time. But she will make it enough.

Shiro settles himself in front of the paladins, a father set on reading his children a bedtime story. Except he isn’t a dad. Though Pidge and Lance loved to refer to him as space dad. He doesn’t quite understand it, he naturally cares for his team. Anyone with a heart would. Except he guesses most don’t scold them for staying up too late or sneaking out of the castle.

Now, he is telling them stories.

Okay, so he is a little bit like a dad. In his defense, he never really had anyone worry about him when he was young. His parents passed away at a young age, and his remaining family did not involve themselves in his life much. If anyone on earth defined themselves as his family, it would be his boyfriend--Adam--who may or may not still be an ex. But he always cared for Shiro, and though they left on bitter terms, Shiro would give anything to see Adam. His little brother is gone; dust in the wind, exit this world far too soon. All he has now is Adam. He hopes he and the others make it out of this war alive, living on for those who cannot. Changing the galaxy for those who can no longer fight. 

To take up the Marmora knife and fight in the name of his lost brother, living on only in his memories. 

“I met Keith around the time he was fourteen, maybe fifteen. He was an angry kid, more so than he is now. But once you break down those strong, brick walls, he is actually a talented, nice kid.” Shiro begins, the fondness never leaving his eyes. “EXCEPT, for the time he stole my potstickers. He also stole my car, but that is a story for another time.”

“Oh my God.”

Not the potstickers!” Hunk gasps, already invested.

“He stole a car??” Lance exclaims, eyes wide.

“What is a potsticker?” Allura and Coran ask, more concerned about the name of the food than the actual story.

Pidge types out the name of the food on her device and shows the picture to Coran and Allura, them ‘oooooohing’ in response. Pidge debated on explaining, but since they don’t quite understand the meaning of human foods, it was best to show them a picture.

Shiro let out a hearty laugh. “Yes, stole my car without a license. He was in a bad mood because of this one kid named Griffin and the teacher. Couldn’t say I blamed him for being angry. They weren’t being fair to him due to him being a ‘problem child’.” Shiro places air quotes around the demeaning title, a sense of distaste at the flashback. “I tracked him down easily, but rather than punish him like Iverson recommended, I gave him a card with the Galaxy Garrison’s address and taught him everything he knew.”

“So, what does potstickers have to do with this?” Pidge asks, quirking an eyebrow up and cocking her head to the side.

“Well, as a way of getting to know him, I took him to lunch a couple weeks after our encounter and some training,” He leans his elbows against his knees, his eyes dancing as he spoke. “He really liked chinese food, so I took him to a nice Chinese restaurant not far from the garrison. He was all lank and no muscle, but had the metabolism of a teen for sure.” His fond expression morphs into lingering concern, his gaze moving to the floor beneath him. “They didn’t feed them much at the boys home. Not enough. With how much he consumed, it was like he was starving for weeks.”

“How long had he been there?” Hunk asks.

“Couple of years. His dad was a fireman and died saving a civilian in a really bad fire. He had no immediate family, and with Keith’s mother out of the picture, child services sent Keith to a home.”

“He never told us that.” says Lance, blue orbs shining with shock. “We talked about our families all the time in front of him, but he never went into detail about his. I thought maybe him and his family was estranged.”

Shiro shakes his head, slow and melancholic. “Keith didn’t like talking about his family. It hurt too much for him. He felt broken; empty and worthless. Like he was never meant to be born. It was why he had hardly any friends--he was scared to get close to them and they end up leaving like his dad did. That’s why he took it so hard when I disappeared. I was the only one he considered family after he let me in, yet there he was. Left behind a second time.”

Lance, surprised by the turn of events early in Keith’s life, looks away from Shiro, ashamed of his past misjudgements. He assumed Keith had it all: good looks, pilot skills, a wealthy family, a connection with his hero, Shiro. He never thought maybe Keith only had his piloting skills. He was not aware of him being an orphan. Of his rough upbringing that brought nothing but steel walls and sharp wire around his heart. 

Lance saw him as privileged, when in reality he was just a kid trying to find his place in a world continuously rejecting him. Lance doesn’t know what it feels like to be without a family; a place in the universe. He did question his worth on the team, but in the end he knew he could always go home to his family. To hug his mother hello, eat garlic knots with his little niece and nephew, and to learn new techniques from his older sister, Veronica. 

Lance had a beach and a large family waiting for him; mourning for his disappearance.

Keith? 

Besides the paladins, there was not so much as a flier across town asking if anyone who stumbled upon it if they saw the dark haired boy. 

He doesn’t comprehend the hand gingerly touching his knee, lost in a sea of his own past actions when he is ripped away by said gesture. His eyes flickers up to the owner of the hand, black and white armor leading to Shiro’s empathetic stare. 

“Let us not dwell on the unfortunate parts of Keith’s life.” His closed lip smile split into a knowing grin. “Let's talk about his habit of being a little shit.”

Lance blinks. “You mean besides him leaving me on a moon to rot?” He says, blunt. He pushes himself to joke back, pushing away the negative thoughts plaguing him.

He nods, the smile not leaving Shiro’s face. “Yes, besides that.” He retracts his hand, taking a moment to think of where he was in his story. “Ah, yes. The restaurant. It was just the two of us, since my boyfriend  Adam was overwhelmed with grading papers. I told Keith to order whatever he wanted, but the kid really, really hated vegetables. And I mean HATED them. He would hiss at the sight of broccoli.”

“Oh my God, he really is a cat.” Pidge comments, giggling at the image of a tiny Keith hissing, hair standing up and eyes narrowed at the mini green tree.

“Tell me about it.” Shiro acknowledges. “Since we were going to be working together at the garrison, I took it upon myself to order some vegetable platters and potstickers. When the food arrived, he took his chopsticks and instantly went for the pork filled dumplings. Until I swiped them away.” He points to the pod, as if awaiting Keith to respond bitterly to Shiro exposing him. “This boy right here has one of the deadliest death glares. Here was this tiny fifteen year old with no meat on his bones and he was giving me a look that said ‘I’ll kill you faster than the Galra’.”

“Sounds like someone who wouldn’t eat her glorap, right Allura?” Coran jabs towards the princess, earning himself a side eye glare from her.

“You and father wouldn’t eat it either!” She replies, blushing. “I was but a child.”

“That’s where we differ, young one.” Coran says, matter of fact and with a teasing twinkle in his eyes. “Children eat their glorap, adults do not have to.”

Allura stuck her tongue out at him and returns her attention to Shiro, huffing to herself. “Please continue, Shiro.”

“I placed a variety of vegetables on his plate and told him he could have the potstickers after he finished his veggies. They are what gives him healthy energy. But while I had my attention to the server who was bringing me the bill, Keith snatched the bowl of potstickers and ran towards the exit, leaving his vegetables untouched and the server surprised. I yelled for Keith to come back, but he wouldn’t listen, dodging several groups of people coming in for a late dinner. The host of that night noticed me chasing him and blocked the door for me, but Keith was a fast thinker. Rather than turn around and admit defeat, he booked it to the kitchen area of the restaurant, fully aware there is always a back door in said area. He weaved past waiters and waitresses easily, but me? I was practically tripping on every human being I came into contact with. When he ran into the kitchen all I could hear was swearing and several people screaming ‘who let a kid in here!?’. I was chasing him all across the restaurant and by the time I caught him in a dead end--one of the waiters ran outside to block his path to the street--he looked me dead in the eye and stuffed the potstickers in his mouth.”

As Shiro told his story, the grim auras laying upon the team began to lift, their smiles turning into grins, their grins morphing into pure, easy laughter. Their shoulders shook with amusement, the image of a tiny Keith and a distressed Shiro trying to be a parent fills their bellies with tickling butterflies. Pidge leans against Lance, covering her mouth and her glasses slowly falling past her nose. Lance is covering his face, hiding his pride and amusement at the tiny Keith, raising his hand and exclaiming how he called it that Keith had always been a rebellious twerp, even to Shiro. Allura snickers, her small laughter of blinking stars and shining Christmas lights. As for Hunk, he attempted to be like a stern parent and comment on how vegetables are necessary in one’s diet, but the giggles that kept interrupting him took over. Coran himself couldn’t help but praise Keith in his actions, reminding him of Allura’s shenanigans when she was of his age. 

The team requests for another story, and as Shiro gave in to their pleas, the fruit alternate Hunk left for them was forgotten.

\-----------------------------------------------

 

Lance doesn’t remember falling asleep. One moment he was wide awake, his stomach trembling with nothing but jest. The next he is being shaken awake, a hand not being quite as gentle as he would imagine. He flails, his immediate response is believing they are being attacked.

“I’m up, I’m up!” He screeches, blindly patting himself down for his bayard. “Are the Galra attacking? Is the castle overrun? What’s going on?” He says through his bleary state, eyes soon coming into focus on the perpetrator. It was none other than Alternate Allura, short hair unbrushed, a halo of curls encompassing her face.

“Get up everyone, you have exactly a varga and a half before you leave, and we must hurry if we want to awaken Keith.”

She leaves a disoriented Lance to place her attention on the rest of the team, Alternate Shiro helping her out and the alternate team themselves trickling in from the commotion. They had fallen asleep mid research, each paladin slumped over books as they snored away in alternate Allura’s room.

“Up and at ‘em, paladins!” Coran yells. “Get your rumps up, no more dilly dallying!” 

“I would hardly call sleeping dilly dallying.” Pidge says, fighting a yawn and scratching her eyes awake. Her glasses sat atop of her head, askew and almost toppling over.

“Princess,” Kolivan starts, having arrived earlier in the night with his counterpart, who stood behind him, a watchful being silently guarding his allies. “My other self told me what happened. Are you sure there is a way to wake him up without disrupting the healing process?”

Alternate Allura, for the first time in ages, beams up at him. Her previous discontent with the Galran gone, thrown away upon her discussion with Keith before the events of the clone.

“Yes, Coran and I did.” She turns to both her team and the team from the other reality, who stood one by one in a hurry, alternate Allura’s words finally sinking in to their sleepy brains. They were of high alert, holding their breath as they awaited the revelation Coran and her had come to.

With pride and ease, she says, “Last night, as you all were sleeping, Coran and I looked into the transferring of quintessence. The healing pod runs on pure quintessence, though it is only a small pool that trickles in due to it being of old Altean technology. Since quintessence is a type of life force, I had come to the assumption we could take our very own essence and input it into the healing pod. Alteans have a high amount of quintessence, and as I tested out the theory, with my very one life force I decreased Keith’s healing time by a couple of your Earthen days. “

She moves behind the pod, peeking out from the side and holding out her hand. “If we all conjoin hands and focus on transferring our quintessence to me and my other self, we can possibly speed up the healing process enough to where he will have a little bruising, but healed to the point his life is not in danger.”

Both alternate Lance and his counterpart’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?” They say, running to Allura. “Lets get this show on the road!”

Alternate Lance grabs alternate Hunk’s hand, who in turn grabs alternate Pidge, Matt, Shiro, and so on and so forth. Alternate Allura is on one side while the other Allura remains on the other, a hand on the glass, mirroring her counterpart. She held Pidge’s small hand in hers, everyone ready to follow through with the theory. Alternate Allura acknowledges there may be flaws in her logic, and there is a small chance this may not work. But, at this point in time, they had nothing left to lose. They are willing to do whatever it takes to save their teammate; their ally, their friend. 

But before they were given the go ahead, both Alluras look towards the two Galran soldiers standing on the sidelines.

“Kolivan,” Alternate Allura calls, eyes kind and open. “Come. You too have quintessence, and I am well aware of your care for the boy.”

Alternate Kolivan blinks, a flash of surprise crossing his face before being covered by his usual stoic expression. “I believe you have enough to save the kit.”

Both Alluras held a hand to the Kolivans, not accepting such answer.

“Come, Kolivan. We are allies with the same goal in mind,” Alternate Allura says warmly, her hand never wavering. “You are among friends. We are one in the same. Let us make Keith proud in ways we could not before.”

Hesitantly, quietly, both the Kolivans took their respective Alluras’ hand, animosity and regret evaporating to make room for allyship.

Everyone closes their eyes. With fierce concentration, each paladin and friend began to glow a luminescent blue, it coursing from the fingertips of Alteans, to those of Galran and human. It seeps out of their skin, the Alluras Altean marks and the pod itself glowing so brightly that if anyone were to have opened their eyes, their vision would be lost. The tufts of their hair rises with the energy, the quintessence tingling throughout their body, seeping out in great currents rivalling that of a Balmeran crystal. Their wish is the same. Their love overpowering, pushing to fix what had been lost long ago. To scream at fate to change their decision, refusing to let go of the person each of them loved, whether it be familial, platonic, or romantic. All they focus on is the disappearing of a deep wound; the mending of bone; the flowing of a red substance; the sealing of pink tissue and pale skin. The shine of indigo orbs, opening upon release of the ancient pod.

As if on cue, the pod lets out a hissing sound, air bursting out from its ajared glass. The quintessence flowing through them ceased to continue, causing everyone to let out a gasp and stumble backwards, hands no longer interlinked. 

The pod opens and Keith, whose eyes had been closed for far too long, slowly cracks open to the world around him. Not quite remembering how to walk properly since he had been stuck in a comatose state, he stumbles forward. His mind is muddled; his responses painfully slow. There is a buzzing in his ears, and as he took another step forward--bleary eyed and whiplashed--two arms wrap around his torso to keep him from falling. 

Except they refused to let go, even when Keith stood upright and regained his grip on reality.

“Welcome back, Keith.” Lance whispers in his ear.

\-------------------------

[Come yell at me on tumblr!](https://stardust-and-blades.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow
> 
> one more chapter to go and then the FIC IS FINISHED BITCH
> 
> IM SO EXCITED
> 
> Please leave comments/kudos and bookmark it! You won't want to miss the ever emotional finale I have coming. I LIVE for your comments and kudos. Bless you all and I hope you all enjoy the last chapter of this insane fic of mine.


	10. Permanent Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is free from the pod, but he has messages to relay. On top of that, time is running out and soon they have to return to their reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HERE.  
> THE FINALE  
> Hope you have some tissues nearby because this is wILD and was emotional even for me.

“After all you have told me, would you take it back?”

“Take back what?” Alternate Keith questions, sitting upon his chair once again, turning away from the darkening sunset.

“Running into the barrier.”

“Ah,” He responds, not quite meeting his very own eyes. He cannot say he hasn’t thought about it. He does have all eternity to spend in the afterlife, constantly looking back on the past or taking a peak at the present. For most the question would be difficult. People who are in love with life fear the inevitable; the tearing away from the world they knew and plunged into a new kind of existence no one could ever understand, let alone explain. But for Keith, the answer is as clear as day. As unwavering as the existence of the moon.

“No, I wouldn’t.” He balances a stray pencil on its point, keeping his attention on the piece of wood. “In my reality, they are alive because of me. I wouldn’t sacrifice them for my resurrection anytime soon.”

“Mmm...I figured you would say that.” Keith says with a sad smile. “Think the only difference between us is I’m technically alive.”

“Technically.” Alternate Keith says with a knowing look, pointing the pencil at him. “Your Lance is really going to have a cow when you return.”

Keith sighs. “I can’t decide what is worse: him yelling at me for putting my life at stake, or crying because I almost died.”

“Both are on equal ground,” Alternate Keith takes a quick glance outside, standing up as the sky turns navy and silver pockets dot above. “It’s time for you to leave.” 

The shack and the mattress underneath Keith disappears, leaving nothing but the desert sand and a white pocket in the middle of the scenery, alternate Keith unphased by the strange occurrence. 

Keith could hardly believe several hours have passed in the living world. To him, it felt like a measly couple of hours rather than a huge chunk of time. He had been so busy listening to alternate Keith’s request that he forgot he is stuck in limbo.

His other self stands by the strange doorway, leaning against a wall that isn’t there and arms folded. “There is a slight possibility your memories will be muddled when you wake up. If you can’t get my messages across, don’t worry about it.” He shrugs lazily. “I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

“I’m sure I’ll remember.” He stares at the bright door before him, taking an unneeded breath as he approaches its endless void. He could not see his body, nor his friends. All that is seen is an ivory, bordering on silver pathway and walls. He reaches a tentative hand out, eyes widening as his fingers dissolve into the white atmosphere before he yanks it back. He expected his fingers to remain gone, but they reappeared as soon as he extract his hand, as if the substance didn’t wipe his existence away in a clean slate. What is even more appalling is it didn’t hurt. It just felt as if his arm was becoming weightless; a balloon ascending to the sun.

A question lingers in the back of his mind. One he had been too afraid to ask during the entirety of his stay.

“What are you waiting for?” Alternate Keith asks, evidently annoyed. “Go through. The longer the wait the tinier the chance your heart remains beating.”

Well, it’s now or never. The worst that could happen is he remains in the dark, asking the same question up until he is destined to die. 

He turns to his counterpart, half his body lingering to his path, the other half aiming towards the end of the line.

“Did you see dad? Is he with you?” He asks, soft. A whisper among a crowd of screams, never fully being heard unless one pays close attention. A leaf easily gliding through a forest, settling on a home as the wind picks up into a storm. 

Alternate Keith, not expecting the sudden question, opens and closes his mouth, words lost in a sea of shock. 

“I--”

“Keith! Keith, where are you, sport?” A low, gruff voice calls. Keith fully faces the owner of the voice, hair whipping fast and doorway forgotten. Alternate Keith looks towards the owner as well, but less enthusiastic and more curious. He pushes himself off the invisible wall, walking towards the owner. In the distance, Keith could make out tufts of dark, spiked hair and a brown jacket--the same one hanging in the closet back home. The same one gathering dust deep in the confines of the small space, Keith never having the heart to put on the old fabric no longer holding the smell of aftershave and firewood.

The man came closer, a hand in the air to wave Keith over. Keith is cemented to the floor. His legs are stiff, eyes wide and the air inside his lungs gone. It couldn’t be. He hasn’t seen him since the Blade of Marmora trials. The moment he turned his back on him, leaving any semblance of reunion in the dust.

“Dad?” Both Keiths’ say, one out of breath, the other clear as day. Alternate Keith runs to him, stopping shy of his boots.

“What are you doing here? I said I would be back.”

“I got worried.” His father says, raising his eyes to meet his son’s counterpart. Keith expected him to jump back; to let out a gasp or indicate any sense of surprise at seeing two versions of his son.

Rather, his gaze wavers into what could only be defined as regret. A deep wish for his son from another reality to still be with a father. Judging by Keith’s expression, his silent plea for his alternate self to survive the fire was not granted. 

Alternate Keith siddles beside him, hooking an arm around his father’s waist and giving his counterpart a warm smile. The kindest one Keith has seen in person and with himself. Keith hadn’t smiled like that since child services knocked on his door and whisked him into his own personal Hell.

“Tell them I’m not alone over here.” He grins up at his father, a happy child once again.  
“My old man keeps me company.”

“Who you calling old?” His father drawls, flicking alternate Keith’s nose. He scrunches it, not appreciating the assault. “Last time I checked you were a tiny weed growing in my home.”  
“Well, this weed isn’t so small anymore.” He says, responding with a light nudge.

“Dad. It--It really is you.” Keith struggles to say, the air never truly returning. It isn’t an illusion. He really is here. In the afterlife, yes, but here. He wants to run to him; to bury himself in the arms he considers home. He wanted to yell at him for running back into that building, leaving his son behind. But then he wants to just hold him, breathe in his scent and feel whole again. Unbroken.

He takes a step to approach him, but alternate Keith predicts hims movement, extracting himself from his father and standing in front of him. He is remorseful, but stern.

“Keith, I’m sorry. But you don’t have much time left. You need to go NOW.”

“But--”

“Son,” His father calls, gaining the attention of both Keiths. Without hesitation, he walks right up to Keith and grabs him in a hug. Keith didn’t know how to react. He didn’t see it coming. His arms lay at his sides, unresponsive and his belly shook to the core. Tears prick his eyes. He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to his father a third time. 

“You’ve turned into a man I can be proud of.” He says in Keith’s ear, not minding his frozen state. “Now, do me one last favor, and come see me when you’re really ready. Remember, I’m always with you.”

And as the doors are closing, as the tears trickle down his cheeks one by one, his father and alternate Keith push him through the doorway.

\--------------------------------------------

“Welcome home, Keith.” Lance whispers, shaky but full of so much relief, Keith is sure he expected the exact opposite of their statuses. His head is hazy, the pod causing his limbs to be foreign to basic human movement. It took some effort, but his raises his ledded arms and wraps them around Lance. He buries his face in the crook of Lance’s neck, squeezing his body hard enough he awaits Lance to complain about his grip.

But Lance just reciprocates Keith’s gesture, a hand burying itself in Keith’s hair and Lance nuzzling him close.The cold Keith came accustomed to melts, his ice caps turning into liquid. 

“I thought I lost you.” Lance says.

Keith, voice grainy and unused, says, “It’s going to take a lot more to take me out.”

Lance, in his very Lance fashion, laughs. It’s wobbly and wet, but filled with a subtle happiness. He has his Keith back. Here he is, wounds healed and chest moving up and down. He is skin and bone, not a ghost or a figment of his imagination. Lance no longer sees a tombstone in his future. Rather, he sees a boy holding his hand--that is, if he wants him.

Now or never, McClain, you’re not getting any younger or safer.

Lance, moving on impulse rather than thought alone, he pushes Keith away from him. It is difficult to do, for he could have stayed like that forever and be content. But no, he knows what he truly wants, and while there is a chance he may not get it, he will take the opening to push for his wish.

Keith blinks up at him, somewhat confused. He is mostly trying to get his barrings after going through his own personal adventure. 

Lance moves his hands up to cup Keith’s face, rubbing his thumbs on the apple of his cold cheeks. Blue meets purple; red is touched by blue. Slowly, ignoring the audience the stood in front of--bare and mentally naked--Lance plants a butterfly of a kiss.

It is soft; gentle. Two rose petals blessing a stone statue. Keith leans into the kiss despite his tired state, his imagination of this moment surpassing his expectations. Strange timing, but understandable. Keith and Lance did not care about their audience, they just saw themselves; both floating in a sea of clouds and sunshine. The threat of lightning ripping them apart withers away into the abyss. Keith is on cloud 9, and Lance felt as if the butterflies in his stomach were going to burst through, his nerves jittery. He didn’t think this would happen. For a sure second, he believed he was doomed to lose the person he loved most again.

They pull away to breathe, foreheads against one another. Keith looks up at Lance shyly. But there was something he didn’t expect. Keith brought a hand to Lance’s face and wipes them away.

“Hey, why are you crying?” He asks, his voice feathers and silk. “I’m here. You shouldn’t be crying.”

Lance sniffs, not going to try and conceal his feelings. “Are you fucking kidding me? You almost died in my arms. To hold you like this and feel your pulse...” He pulls Keith in for another tight hug. “How could I not be emotional? God you can be dense sometimes.”

“Last time I checked you are the one who denied our bonding moment.”

“Oh my God.” Lance says, exasperated. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

Keith hid his grin behind his shoulder. “Nope.”

“Okay move aside! I want to hug Keith too!” A high pitched, very annoyed voice says behind them. Pidge glares up at Lance as if he committed the most atrocious crime in her book.

“ ‘I love you’ blah blah blah, now move aside.” She butts her way past Lance, wriggling her way between them. Lance squawks, insulted by the audacity of such a tiny human being. Keith, on the other hand, is living for it. He gathers Pidge in his arms, brushing his fingers through her short hair.

“Nice to see you too, Pidge.”

“Don’t scare me like that again!” She admonishes, squeezing harder. “Do you know how hard it is to hack? How much pressure I was under? Choose to die at a better time! Like when you’re old and decrepid and can’t hold a sword and--” Her words became thicker as she went on, Keith’s amused expression altering into one of concern. She stops talking, but her shoulders do not stop shaking.

“Don’t worry, Pidge. I’m not going anywhere for a long time.”

“Promise?”

He chuckles. “I promise.”

Hunk, standing besides Shiro in the background, sniffs and rubs at his eyes, failing to cease the waterworks overcoming him. They did it. They overcame death and saved their friend. He doesn’t have to sit by and watch as Lance, Pidge, and Allura blame themselves for a loss in their hearts. He doesn’t have to be one of the few people to notify Shiro of Keith’s passing if they ever find him. Hunk hopes to find Shiro now, more than ever. Before he was filled with dread, the day of Shiro asking where Keith is and having no good answer to give him. 

He doesn’t have to worry about that now.

“I can’t stay away from this!” Hunk exclaims and runs to Keith and Pidge, gathering the two in his arms. Pidge wiggles around, screeching for Hunk to put her down. Keith is more on the awkward end, but accepts it up until the point Hunk’s grip tightens a bit too much. 

“Hunk, buddy,” Keith says, breathless. “My ribs. You’re squeezing my ribs.”

“Oh!” Hunk realizes, putting them down fast. “Oh sorry Keith. I got excited.”

“I can tell.” He rubs his bruised side. “I was only gone for a couple of hours.”

“Couple of hours? Keith, you were in there for half a quintant!” Lance says. “We thought you weren’t going to come out in time.”

“I’m aware.”

Lance frowns, not understanding what he meant. He couldn’t have been aware of his situation--at least, not the full brunt of it. He wasn’t exactly able to hear the gang discuss his condition. Not with glass and death keeping him out of earshot.

“Wait, you heard us?”

Keith shrugs, sheepish and moving his attention to the alternate team. They were little bit away, eyes shining with unshed happy tears and relieved smiles. Yet, a barrier stood before them, as if them walking towards Keith would ruin his state and he would be back in the pod. Keith could tell their conflict. They wanted to run to him. To gather him in their arms and feel his pulse, the warmth beneath his red cheeks and the rise and fall of his healed chest. Alternate Lance never broke eye contact, a hand holding Hunk’s to maintain his bearings. 

Tentatively, as if he were about to disturb a doe mid chew on some berries in the quiet woods, he meets their eyes and approaches them. His Lance stood at his side, refusing to stay behind, though the distance is not as big as he makes it to be. 

“I have a message for you guys.”

“A message?” Alternate Shiro questions. “From who?”

“Keith. Your Keith.” He levels them with a sadden expression. “I was with him as I was recuperating. There is a lot you all need to know.” 

“W-what?” Shiro says, punched in the gut. The alternate team stared at him, shook from his blunt and ever changing words. They expected him to thank them, not to bring up their dead teammate. The fact he had a message from alternate Keith in itself was impossible--Keith didn’t die. So how could he have a message from the dearly departed?

Keith grabs Lance’s hand from behind him, Lance squeezing his hand in support and to usher him into explaining. He did not wish to rip open a long healed wound the alternate team held. But it is now or never. Alternate Keith helped him when he was in peril. It is time he returns the favor, as painful as it may be for the other team.

“You should sit and listen. Let’s go into the dining hall, we have a couple of vargas I assume?”

“Ah...yes, you do.” Alternate Allura stutters out. She leads them to the dining hall, the team sharing nervous glances with one another. This had to be a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on who you are asking. Alternate Shiro, side by side with alternate Lance, wearily looks to him. But he did not receive a look back, for alternate Lance was more focused on the back of Keith’s head. Shiro wonders what could be going through his head. Not too long ago he was a mess; the two letting out their inner turmoil until they were exhausted. Now, he is stone faced. A soldier analyzing his surroundings and debating if what Keith spoke was but a hallucination due to massive amounts of blood loss, or as true as clone Shiro’s existence. 

But what would he gain from mentioning a hallucination? Keith isn’t one to take chances. Not when there is a lack of evidence. He wouldn’t want to rip open the crusted wounds, not unless what he plans to say is true. There could be a chance he was hallucinating. He lost enough blood to fill several blood bags for the Red Cross. But he also would have to be awake for it. He had been in the pod, no chance of him visually seeing what isn’t there. 

Alternate Lance immediately sits down, not taking a chance on standing. He isn’t one to faint. But he is one to get shaky legs. He is already shaking when it comes down to it. His hands are vibrating by his sides, sweat trickling down his neck and his jacket becoming all too hot to wear. 

Everyone else stiffly sat down, alternate Lance’s counterpart staying by Keith’s side and asking if he needed water. Keith declines, though Coran offers him some anyway. He had been away from actual water a long enough time. While the pods are useful in healing his wounds, they do not give him enough nutrients of food and hydration. Coran also brought out a tray of cookies alternate Hunk made the night before, Keith taking one and munching on it slowly. 

Keith’s eyes flicker to meet alternate Lance. It was short; fleeting, but intense to the point alternate Lance’s hair stood up. 

He definitely has a message. And alternate Lance’s is the most vivid, packaged one of them all.

Alternate Lance wish he had tissues.

\-----------------------------------------------

“Keith, you...you said our Keith has a message for us?” Shiro tiptoes, equally as confused and resistant to hope. “He is d--gone. You aren’t. H-how could you--”

“I was pretty close to death,” Keith says, keeping his eyes on the cookie. “Really close. I thought I was dead, actually. But your Keith kinda tethered me back to my body. It is true Lance got me in the pod in time, but not without a little extra help.”

“Coran, do you know anything of this phenomenon?” Allura asks her alternate advisor, never hearing of an occurrence.”

Coran strokes his ginger mustache, humming to himself in thought. “Hmm, it is hard to say. There have been very few accounts of visiting the afterlife and coming back, let alone remembering. Our species were researching into the possibility of life after death and if we could reach it through the pods at the time of Zarkon’s resurrection. Keith’s brain waves were unusually active while he was under, but other than that, we have no concrete evidence. Keith can be a piece in the mysteries of the other world!” 

“If you think about it, anything is possible.” says Pidge, reaching for a cookie herself. “If alternate realities can exist, life after death is surely one of the various options of impossibilities becoming possibilities.”

“Guys, we need to hurry.” Keith says. “We only have a couple of vargas before we need to leave.” He faces the alternate team, swallowing from the several pairs of vulnerable eyes staring at him in anticipation and fear. He made a promise. There is no other way to send a message but through him. It will hurt, but in the end Keith hopes it puts their grief to a long overdue rest. 

So, he began. First, with Shiro. The leader. The man who could survive the Galra throwing him in the arena as a champion of monstrous aliens, the loss of his arm, and the stripping of his beloved crew.

“Shiro. The brother I never had, the man who gave me a second chance.” Keith starts, soft and kind. “He sees you lose sleep over him. He knows you blame yourself, convinced if you didn’t go on the Kerberos mission then not only would Matt and Sam Holt not have been taken, but he would be alive. He wants you to stop. To cease beating yourself over a fate you had no control over. It hurts him to see you wrought with so much self loathing. You’re his brother. His--my--only family. If only one of us were meant to survive, he is glad it is you.”

Keith’s throat grew thick; painful, as if he swallowed an all too large pill with little water. Shiro covers his mouth with his metal hand, his face pale and shroud in shock and pain.

“I’m the big brother, though.” Shiro grinds out. “I was supposed to protect him.”

“And you did.” Keith scoots his chair closer to Shiro, elbows resting on his knees to make eye contact with a hunched over man. He searches his face, begging him to understand. “Shiro, you protected him from the moment you got him into the academy. You were the first one to notice him among a class of talented students. You saw me. And you have always worked to protect me. Protect us. You did your duty. So did he.”

In that moment, a single tear escape from Shiro’s eyes, unaware of the piece of emotion going against his strong will and his lower lip slightly trembling. A coil around his chest release, a burden he had been living with for far to long lifting from his shoulders. He still mourns his brother. Still wishes he could have done something. But as Keith told him of his little brother’s message from beyond, he felt less trapped. Free to let go and know he isn’t angry or resentful towards Shiro. Sad, yes. He could tell by the other Keith’s strangled tone, the hurt of his death not only leaving a mark on the living, but also the dead. 

Keith wipes away the tear, patting his cheek and moving his attention to Pidge. She sat there, small and wide eyed. She has her arms wrapped around her figure, Matt standing beside her as moral support. She breathes in, preparing herself for what is to come barrelling at her.

He smiles, fond. “Pidge. The little sister he never had. He hears you talk to him when you’re alone. He laughs at the jokes you send his way, and he is impressed with how well of a flier and hacker you have become. He wishes he was here to give you a high five.” His smile grew wider. “Oh, and the makeshift trash sculpture you have in your room of him and everyone else? He can’t help but laugh.”

She rubs her arms, blushing. “T-those were made when I was bored!”

“You don’t need to defend yourself, Pidge. He loves them. He is glad you didn’t throw them away.”

“I--He knew I was going to chuck them?” She gapes at him. She had been debating with herself on whether to keep the trinkets. She made them at a time of boredom; of desiring human contact. She was stranded in the middle of space with no way of contacting the team. Creating the trash sculptures were a way of her stretching her creativity and maintain her sanity. She doesn’t know why, but she had kept them in her room since then, finding them a source of comfort when she felt isolated. 

When Keith passed, occasionally she would talk to his sculpture. When she had a nightmare, a close call with the galra, or stressing about finding her family, she would talk to the fuzzballs she retrieved as pets, as well as the tin and wooden fake beings. It was weird, she knew that. But sometimes, as she talked to the makeshift Keith, she imagined him actually there, sitting silently as she ranted about her day or her feelings. It was her way of keeping him with her. As silly as it may seem.

“Yes. And he doesn’t think it is silly. Quite the opposite, actually. When his father died, he would talk to his headstone. Sometimes his clothing, as if he were there. As a kid you want to keep what has already been lost.” He looks down, growing quiet. “Adults and children are not that much different.”

Unable to resist, she stands up and runs to Keith, her ponytail whipping wildly behind her. She throws herself on him, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck.

“This is what I wanted to give him.” She says, fighting the urge to cry all over again. “Please tell me he isn’t suffering.”

“No, he is okay.” He gently pulls away, ruffling her hair playfully. “He is with dad.”

“Your dad?” She gave him a questioning look. “I thought he had family back on Earth.”

He shook his head. “No. He passed away when I was a preteen, and I had never met my mother. Dad was a great single parent.”

“Oh.”

“He is sad to be away from you guys, but he is in good care.” Keith moves his eyes back to Shiro. “Dad says thank you. For taking care of him until the very end.”

Shiro is left to digest the new information, jaw halfway agape in awe. Alternate Pidge remains by Keith, not quite set to move away from the brother figure she has been separated from for so long. Matt doesn’t mind. He is well aware of how much this means to his sister.

Keith keeps by her, but chose alternate Hunk in the next order, who is prodding and shining a silver spoon. He hesitates on addressing Keith, not sure if he is emotionally prepared for the message he had in store. He has come to a point where he can tolerate the pain; to cope with it better than the others. But it doesn’t make him bulletproof. The sudden news of his dead friend making contact is as jarring as an earthquake, unravelling cities worth of progress. 

“Hunk,” He is unable to keep his gaze away, ceasing his handling of the silverware. “He loved the cake you made him. He doesn’t remember the last time he had a birthday cake. His father was the only one who knew his favorite. Your talent lives up to its name, he was happy to eat your food again.”

“H-he could eat it?” Alternate Hunk exclaims, dropping the spoon. “Wait, does this mean he hasn’t been eating? Because if so that’s a problem. Heaven is supposed to have food, water, maybe some dogs and and--”

“Hunk--”

“What kind of afterlife doesn’t have food? He can’t be starving, not after all he has done for us--”

“Hunk.” Keith interrupts, stern and loud. But not mean. He wants to sooth Hunk, the distress over the random act appalling Keith. Who knew he would be this worried over his health when his heartbeat has long since stopped. Keith evens out his voice, but makes sure Hunk can hear him clearly. “You don’t necessarily feel hunger where he is at. You don’t eat or sleep, though you can if you would like. But the cake for him was made by none other than yourself. The afterlife cannot mimic that.”

“So...he is okay? Hunger wise?”

“Yes. He just misses your cooking. And your kindness.” Keith can recall his alternate self poking at the plate, small crumbs littering the porcelain circle. As he spoke of Hunk, his voice was as soft as a feather, a far away smile as he gazed up at the setting sun back in the shack.

“You were the first one to help him accept his heritage. It...wasn’t easy finding out he was Galra. But you opened your heart to him, telling him it was okay to be who he is. You told him nothing defined him except for his personality. His intentions. He needed that during a time where he felt the most alone.Your cake reminded him of that. If he could come back for a couple minutes, he would give you the hug he was too awkward to initiate. Thank you, Hunk, for loving him just the way he was. You truly are deserving the spot as yellow paladin.”

Alternate Hunk, swelling with several emotions, tears up. He wipes a this eyes, but it was useless. Whenever he seized the bout of reminiscence and mourning, it slipped through his fingers and made his throat constrict and his lids blink rapidly. The spoon is forgotten. He just bends his head down and try to smile through the tears.

“Told you he always had a sweet side.” Hunk says, barely loud enough for his team to hear. But they did and nod in unison. When they first met Keith they thought he was nothing more than an angry, impulsive young man.

In the end, he was so much more than that. So much more than the stereotype they built in their heads after their first meeting--minus Shiro. Shiro always saw past it. Eventually, so did Hunk.

Keith shrugs, a crooked smile appearing. “He said to keep that a secret. He has a reputation to live by. Kinda.”

Alternate Hunk chuckles and shakes his head, expecting that type of response. 

Next in the order is alternate Allura at the head of the table, hands folded and focus on the table. Her expression is blank, though a storm lies beneath those aquamarine orbs.

“Allura,” Keith breathes, alternate Allura flashing up at him. They were never close. Not as much as the others. But she eventually considered him her family. The true deserving red paladin and a fallen leader. She may had never shown her affection explicitly, but they always shared a common interest in strategy and liberating planets.

“Thank you for forgiving Kolivan. It had been bugging him how you two were at odds. He didn’t want to cause a rift between the voltron coalition and the Blades of Marmora.”  
“Ah, he saw that.” She says, a light blush dusting her cheeks.  
Keith’s prideful smile did not leave.“ He was smiling down at you in pride as you held your hand out to him. He knows you have been wronged, Allura. It takes great strength to forgive your enemy, let alone the being related to your enemy. You have come a long way as both a princess, a leader, and a friend. He was glad to be of service to you. He met your father, and King Alfor is proud to call you his daughter.”

“Father?” Alternate Allura might as well have been punched in the gut. She stood up, the chair falling in a crash. “He met my father? Did he and Keith say anything else?”

“They want you to stop doubting yourself. You are doing great, Allura. You are an excellent diplomat and a fantastic fighter. Do not let one death be the downfall of you. Mourn, but move on. Remember, but do not be stuck in the past.” Keith moves his gaze across the rest of the team. “That goes for all of you.”

“Keith...I...” She toys with the ends of her sleeves. “You...You were always so driven. Thoughtful, though a bit reckless. Please, does he know he was more than a soldier to me?”

“Yes. He doesn’t hold anything against you. He doesn’t hate you like you think. Yeah you two weren’t close, but he knows you cared for him. He is hoping for you and Shiro to take care of the team and yourselves. He also loved the flowers and the song you and my Allura sang.”

“I’m happy he loved it.” She says softly, Coran lending her a handkerchief. She did not even realize her face is wet.

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry.” She gathers the cloth in her hand and turns away, it being far too long since she had felt this ache in her chest. But this time she knew it would get better. It will not linger like the nightmares of the fall of Altea and the harsh smack of alternate Keith’s head against the dashboard of his aircraft. She knew now she had not disappointed him or her father.

Keith said it is alright. It is hard to remain stone face when it comes to death; to messages from beyond the grave.

_ Almost done _ , Keith thinks. “Kolivan, I also have a message for you.”

The Blade leader straightens, arms behind his back and stone awaiting for Keith’s condemnation or praise. He is not sure which. He just knows his bones turn to lead and his mouth a firm line.

“You went against the usual protocol and tried to protect him to the best of your ability. He agrees him putting the mission before anything else was difficult to uphold, but you still held faith in him. You lost him in the end, but like Allura he doesn’t want you living with the burden of his lost life. He doesn’t want you thinking you could have done more, because you both know he does what he wants. Much to your chagrin. Thank you for being patient, and for taking him under your wing in the short time span you were able. You taught him survival; that being Galra does not mean he is evil by blood. While the Blade is drastically different from voltron, you loved and cared for your troops in your own way. Do not let the guilt eat at you, for he is with your members who have long passed into the afterlife. They are okay. And they are rooting for you to take down the Galra empire for the sake of freedom. It is because you fight that they are content. They know you will succeed--you, the Blade, and the Voltron coalition.”

Finally, Keith turns to alternate Lance. He is by alternate Shiro, listening the all the exchanges but never lifting his head to acknowledge Keith. His arms are folded in himself, his posture stiff and eyes unmoving. He is frozen in time, wishing to remain so rather than to hear his message. He does not have to be psychic to know his bearings on his stability are close to fracturing.

“Lance,” Keith starts, soft and worried. “Lance, will you come sit by me, please?”

He silently obliges, alternate Shiro moving away for alternate Lance and Keith have space.

Alternate Lance kept his body aimed away from Keith, to which Keith responds by sliding his hands under alternate Lance’s, prying them from the table. He moves them towards his body, causing alternate Lance to reluctantly face him head on. Alternate Lance waits for him to release his hands, but he doesn’t, only tightening one and lifting the other to tip Lance’s gaze upwards. The ground will not show what Keith is communicating.

Blue meets indigo. Alternate Lance’s breath is taken away by how soft and bittersweet he is. The smile turns sad, Keith himself having to prepare for the last message. The most important one. The most painful one.

“He misses you so, so much. He loves you, and he wishes every passing second he could wrap you in his arms and take away the pain you are enduring. You are brave; selfless, and he is so sorry he hurt you. But he had to protect the ones he loved. The boy he loves.”

Alternate Lance bends his head against their conjoined hands, his grip tightening as Keith went on. He clenches his jaw, attempting to calm the storm brewing in his stomach. He doesn’t think he can hear this. But at the same time it is what he has wished for ever since the crash. To hear him again. To know what he would say. Now that the time has come, he is unsure if he can pull through without being put back into the body of someone broken. 

Keith does not force him to look at him, but keeps his grip on the stiff boy. With each word and letter leaving his mouth, he feels alternate Lance’s hands turn into a vice grip and his shoulders tremble with each breath.

Keith wants to hold him. But he has to get this over with. Rip off the band aid quick.

“He saw what you did with Lotor. How you got that scar. Do not ever, EVER, do that again. You are stronger than this. You need to stay part of the team, you are the heart of voltron. As much as he wants to hold you, he needs you to stay with the team. He needs you to be their light.” Keith’s throat grew thick; sore, as if someone had stabbed him with a blade and left it there. Alternate Lance’s shoulders shook more, his face remaining hidden by his hair and the shadows. 

“He is proud of how far you’ve come. Don’t throw it all away for a ghost. He wants to see you grow old, though it hurts him not to be able to age with you. And he wants you to win this fight for him. Win it with the others. Make sure his sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

Alternate Lance is unable to hold back a sob, his head dipping lower. Tears dot the space below him, clear and shiny. 

Keith swallows a lump in his throat. He knew this was going to be hard. He didn’t think it would be near to impossible for him to speak again. The alternate Lance has crumbled before him, the strong man he was presenting earlier no longer existing on those moments. He debates if he should stop; leave it there to not cause more pain already done. He got most of the message out. Alternate Lance could probably guess what else he had to say and could go on without it.

Keith starts to pull away, choosing the path of silence. But alternate Lance grips his hands, knowing exactly what he is doing.

“If there is anything else, please tell me.” He whispers through the breaks of his sobs. The dark haired boy asks for his hands back, needing them for a second. Alternate Lance hesitates, anxious he will evaporate and leave him with questions and a torn chest.   
Nevertheless, he lets go.   
With his hands free, Keith follows the path of alternate Lance’s scar with the base of his thumb, a feathery touch contradicting the rough callous of his palms and fingertips. They are war torn. Shredded into tatters and unable to heal into the soft padding from his childhood days. A time where a knife never burdened his lifelines, when all he knew was jungle gyms and the faint laughter of his father in the distance.

He cups alternate Lance’s face, compelling him to meet Keith’s eyes. 

“You were his first and last love. When you feel alone, when you think no one is listening, he is there. You won’t be able to see him for a long time, or at least he hopes so. But when you do arrive, he will be waiting there for you.”

Alternate Lance opens his mouth, but Keith stops him with a look. He needs to get this out of the way. Time is of the essence.

“Thank you for visiting him every week. Like Hunk’s food, he received the necklace and is wearing it right now.” His smile is small, but holds no fakeness. “It matches your eyes. When he is sad, he just holds it and knows you’re with him as vice versa. And though he loves your visits, you need to stop.”

Alternate Lance yanks his head back as if he was burned. “What!? No! I--”

“You have to, and you must.” He says, stern. “The more you come, the less likely you are to move on. He wants you to turn those fake smiles into genuine ones. You and he both know you can’t keep visiting him because when the war ends and you and everyone goes home, his grave will be too far away to visit.”

“We will bring his grave back home then.”

“You can’t.”

“And why the hell not?” Lance asks, hurt taking over. He moves away from Keith, though the space did not alleviate the pain. “He may not have family back on earth but he should at least be buried next to his father.”

“What, you’re going to carry his decaying remains? Lance, he is already with dad. He doesn’t want you or Shiro or anyone else for that matter carrying a duffel bag of charred bones and piece of marmora armor.”

“That is exactly what we are going to do. All of us are going home. ALL OF US.”

The tears were more angry rather than sad now, alternate Lance glaring at Keith for so much as speaking such horrifying words. How could he expect him to walk away from someone he deemed as a friend and a loss love? It isn’t fair to him. He understands he needs to move on. It is all in his best interest. Both Keiths were trying to help him. But if said help involves him leaving a teammate, a friend, a lover, a loved one behind, he can shut it. He refuses to hear this, and Keith knows it. 

“Lance, please sit down.” He reaches to take his hand. “If you want to dig him up again, fine. He technically can’t stop you. But he doesn’t want it to hurt you guys in the process.”

Alternate Lance lets him take his hand, his pull guiding him back to his seat. The team looks on, sad as they see alternate Lance fall apart and lash out. It is nothing new to them, yet it still left them feeling as if their insides were scooped out.

“Do you want to know why he didn’t say goodbye?” Keith is keeping his attention on their linked hands, tracing the lines on alternate Lance’s palms.

Alternate Lance had no time to answer.

“It was because of this. He didn’t want the last memory you had of him was saying goodbye. It kind of fucks you up. He didn’t want you dwelling on the past. But here you are, doing that exact thing.”

He sniffs, clenching and unclenching his jaw. “What does he expect of me? I have been convinced he died feeling unloved. I didn’t do anything to stop it. I didn’t do anything to make him think otherwise.” His tone becomes more frantic. “I sat in his lion listening to Matt scream at him and didn’t bat an eye. What kind of person am I for not noticing sooner--”

“It isn’t your fault!” Keith shook his hands for emphasis, his grip tightening. “He would have had the same fate either way, because he loved you. Loved all of you enough to sacrifice his life for yours. You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why does it hurt so much? Why do I feel as if I made a terrible mistake” He sobs. Slowly, Keith gathers alternate Lance in his arms, allowing the young paladin to release his pent up confusion, anger, and hurt. He combs a hand through his hair, laying his chin atop of alternate Lance’s hairline. His Lance did not show any indication of objection. Why would he, when he knows himself well enough that he needs it? If it were him in that chair, he wouldn’t want someone to get in the way of the small mercy he is being granted. 

“It’s okay. Let it out.” Keith has never been one for comforting, but in this instance he couldn’t not do something. Keith could sense his other self, knowing he would have wanted to do the same thing if able. Keith may be back in the plane of the living, but if he were back with his alternate self, he could imagine him crying along alternate Lance, wishing he could tell him himself he isn’t at fault. To tell him he wants him to forget Keith and be happy. Smile as he did when he looked up at the stars during a night after horrible nightmares. To grin as he did when he teased Keith’s hairdo, or when he ran around the mall with Pidge. 

But no much how much alternate Lance is told he did good, his heart remained in the darkest part of his mind. 

Keith gathers his face in his palms once more, his own eyes mirroring the wetness of alternate Lance. “It is time to let go, Lance. It is time to let go of him...of me.”

Ever so gently, he bends alternate Lance’s head down and kisses his forehead, a single tear trailing down his pale cheek. He then rests his forehead against alternate Lance’s, closing his eyes and breathing in deep. The loud crying had cease, Keith only feeling the trembling of alternate Lance’s body.

“You’re strong. You’re brave. And you have a family to go home to. You’ll see him again. But until then, fight. Fight your hardest and when your time does come, he promises he will be the first one you see.”

“Promise?”

He faintly chuckles. “Promise. But you need to be strong and move on. Fall in love again. Have fun. Be the kid you were meant to be before the war. The world isn’t all dark endings.”

Keith pulls him in for an embrace. Alternate Lance reciprocates fast, squeezing Keith hard enough to knock the oxygen from his lungs. Keith doesn’t mind. His ribs are a little tender, but it did not meet the ache in his heart the entire time he has been talking to alternate Lance. Much like the Keith of this reality, he wishes to erase his pain. But alas, all he could do was hold a boy who has been held together by tape and glue for far too long. He has faith though he will be left in the best hands. He had already talked to alternate Shiro earlier, when they were hashing out their plan against the clone in private. Alternate Keith left him shattered, and he knows it. This time, Keith will leave him less broken. Maybe bruised, but quelling the demons that tore at him since the day alternate Keith was encompassed by flames and debris. 

They stay like that, Keith holding him as his other self would. He wipes the tears off his face, whispering sweet nothings in his ears and, despite his broody nature, actually tries to make a joke. He fails, but gains the desired result, which is alternate Lance weakly laughing to Keith’s sad attempt. It was cute, and he couldn’t help but smile pass the tears. 

“Think this is the tenth time you’ve seen me cry.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Keith says. “But it’s okay. You have been through a lot. So have the others. It is okay to cry.”

“I don’t want you to leave.” Alternate Lance whispers, burying his face in the crook of Keith’s neck. 

“I know. But I have to.” He pets his head, a tiny comfort for a big problem. It will be hard for him to let go again. To get used to a life without Keith. He has been around for two quintants, and Keith fears the amount of time could be their undoing; a setback in all the progress they have made. He hopes by interacting with them, by telling them his and alternate Keith’s thoughts, they can leave their hauntings behind. Rid their closets of the skeletons they buried deep within the walls, allowing only themselves to peer into the closet. 

But Keith walked into their closets and took the skeletons, throwing them in space to float off into the vast void of stars and black holes. He hopes they stay there, and they do not go venturing for a piece of themselves that would only serve to break them.

It is hard, but Keith pulls away, stating he and the team must leave now. Alternate Lance, now cold from being separated from the light in the room, withers. Right. Keith can’t stay. He has to remind himself the Keith in front of him isn’t his to keep.

He stands up, tipping alternate Lance’s chin upwards to look at him. “Alternate Keith was not able to upload his memories before his death, so he asked me to do so in his stead. Allura can show you when we leave.”

“I thought he wanted us to let him go.”

“He does. But he knows going cold turkey is extremely difficult. So, when you are in need to hear his voice, to be comforted, to vent or to ask questions he cannot answer personally, he lies beyond the doors holding his memories. We are practically identical, so I’m sure it won’t be off.”

Alternate Lance’s eyes tear up in joy, encompassing Keith in another hug. He no longer shies away from touch. If anything, Keith has grown fond of it. While he does have his Lance, he is sad to leave this one in an unfortunate state. But there is only so much he could do.

“Thank you. Thank you for everything.” He says in his ear.

Keith rubs his back and pulls away, backing up towards his team. He scans the rest of the alternate team, carefully analyzing their current state. It may be a long shot, but the heavy aura that surrounded them since their arrival has seem to have lifted, a long overdue glint in everyone’s eyes. It may be tears, it may be a mask, Keith cannot be a hundred percent certain. The alternate Lance in front of him is still covered in his grief, but now with a new vigor in his stance. They had been lost in their own regret, the weight of war and loss impairing their logic and future. As of today, since his emergence from the healing pod, they are a new team. One still wrestling with the effects of death, but acknowledging the end truly isn’t the end. It is simply a precursor to their eventual immortality beyond the planes of the mortal realm.

He smiles at alternate Lance, sure faith in him being okay. “Make it safe back home to your family. And never stop smiling. He always loved the way you smiled.”

Alternate Lance nods. He won’t let him down. It will be a hard road, but it is his Keith’s last wish. He will honor it. “I promise.”

“Good.”

Allura, wishing she did not have to break up the exchange, faintly taps Keith’s shoulder. She gives him an apologetic look. “We must leave now, Keith. We must see if your connection with the black lion still stands.”

His smile instantly disappears. He forgot. Without real Shiro and clone Shiro incapacitated, that left one person left to potentially pilot the leading lion of Voltron. Keith left because he did not consider himself leader material, now he is being thrust back into the position he has feared since Shiro’s second disappearance. 

“I--me? I...I’m not...” He bites his lip, hoping a hole would open up and swallow him whole. “I’m not Shiro. I don’t--I can’t pilot the black lion.”

“You must try, Keith.” Allura gently urges, acknowledging his anxiety, but aware of their dire situation as well. “We all tried piloting black. You are the paladin it chose as Shiro’s successor.”

Keith opens his mouth to object, wanting to say they could try again. They have time, maybe black took a liking to Lance or Allura while he was away and would choose them. They are the two who hold the team together. They both were the hearts of voltron, and Lance succeeded in taming Red. It can’t be Keith. He isn’t suitable as a leader. He takes missions and completes them, not lend out orders. Last time he did that he nearly got the team killed by Lotor and his generals.

As he sets himself up to argue, a firm hand turns him around. Alternate Shiro stares down at him, eyes brimming with pride and hope. “Keith, you can do this. I chose you to lead black. You have amazing potential, you need to trust yourself.”

“You may not have been around when I piloted black, but they were,” Keith says, waving to the team behind him. “They saw me lead the black lion. I’m not a leader. I’m not a paladin. That’s why I joined the blade. It is where I belong.”

“No, it is where you are settling.”

“W-What?” He stutters.

“You’re scared to pilot black. It is understandable, but the problem with you is you refuse to accept the potential you hold. I picked you because I saw a leader; I saw a man who would do whatever he can to liberate the galaxy from the Galra empire.”

Keith shook his head, backing away from Shiro. “No, you don’t understand. I almost got us  _ killed _ . Allura works just as hard to free planets, she has the black paladin potential. As well as Lance, I mean he can operate Red perfectly! It took me being flung into space for Red to so much as let me in her cockpit.”

“Keith, they are leaders. But in a different way. Everyone is their own person. They have different gifts and flaws, each fulfilling an aspect of voltron we need. But black didn’t choose them. It chose  _ you _ .”

“Black made a mistake.”

“No it didn’t.” Lance interjects, siding himself besides Shiro. “I admit, it would have been cool piloting black. But like Shiro said, you are talented. You need to respect black’s decision in you and have faith, because we have faith in you.”

“You...do?” Keith is confused. Weren’t they glad to be relieved of his leadership? He was reckless; focused more on capturing Lotor than the expense of one of their team members. They almost lost Allura due to Keith’s ignorance. He does not want to put them back in said position again. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he became the reason for someone’s injury or death. 

Lance shrugs, giving him a lopsided smile. “I admit, you did scare me in the beginning. But towards the end you really took in account of the team and how important teamwork is. You saved us from being attacked by Lotor’s goons AND prevented him from taking the comet. That takes some leadership skills, man.”

“It is flattering you believe me and Lance are leadership material, but it is not in the stars for us.” Allura adds, kind and supportive. “My father was a king, but he knew when a role was meant for him or not. We are meant to support you, not overshadow you, Keith.”

“I must agree with the black paladin of this reality.” Kolivan pipes up from the back, the silent figure coming to life. Keith is even more surprised, he thought Kolivan would not wish to participate in the decision of Keith’s future. “While you are driven by your emotions on missions, your spirit does not reside at the blade. You are a skilled fighter, but your heart still screams for voltron. I know when my troops are in the right place or not.”

“Are you...are you kicking me out?”

“No. I am recommending you follow Shiro’s and your team’s advice. Their tongues do not speak lies.”

“B-but--”

Kolivan raises a hand, stopping Keith. Though he attempts to keep a neutral expression, a glimmer of fondness escapes. “The Blade is for soldiers willing to put their lives on the line and leave behind others. Though I cannot say such necessities are easy, it is what kept the Galra empire from eradicating us. You risk your life for those who had already accepted their fate. You mourn them; are emotionally affected by their demise. You may wear the Blade uniform, but your soul is meant for voltron.”

Keith couldn’t argue with that. How could he, when Kolivan is the sole reason he is still alive? Besides the barrier incident, Keith has had some close calls in the Blade. Kolivan strangely yanked him out of deadly situations, even if Keith was kicking and screaming for him to let go.

Keith is torn. Part of him is ecstatic at the idea of joining the voltron team once more. But the other half fears the leadership position. At least with the Blades he took on missions and didn’t have to worry about sending them to their deaths. He didn’t have control of their missions, freeing him of the additional guilt of making decisions.

“Please?” Pidge says from his side. “Please come back?”

“We all miss you, man.” Hunk adds. “Before you left you were really settling into your position as black paladin. I don’t think it would be a bad idea if you continue where you left off.”

“We support you, Keith.” Lance says, squeezing his hand. “We let you go once. We don’t want to let you go again.”

He opens and closes his mouth, practically at a loss for words.

“I...Um...Guys I want to come back, but...” He takes away his hand, folding his arms. It is what he does when he is uncomfortable; when all eyes are on him. “I’m not sure if it is best.”

Alternate Shiro approaches him and, without any warning, wraps him in a tight hug. “You can do it, Keith. You have to. I chose you for a reason. So did Black.”

Keith’s eyes welled with tears, but refused to shed them. Instead, he leans into the embrace, his touch deprived skin relaxing into a sensation he is adjusting to quite fast. 

“What if I don’t find you? What if you made the wrong choice?”

Alternate Shiro chuckles, pulling away but keeping his hands on his shoulders. “If there is a reality where you are alive, then there is a reality where you will find me. And I did make a right choice. I never gave up on you, now is the time you don’t give up on yourself.”

He doesn’t want to say goodbye. He doesn’t want to step into black, leaving behind the real Shiro he has to search for in his reality. He doesn’t want to leave a team who will forever have a hole in their lives, the piece meant to fit in the cavity existing beyond their capabilities. 

Reading Keith’s clouded eyes, alternate Shiro pushes him to his real team, placing distance between the two realities. 

“It is time you leave, Keith. I’m happy I got to see you one last time.”

He straightens, pulling up a facade of confidence and taking up the role as the new black paladin. Shiro is right. He has to leave, and he has to take up where Shiro left off. Keith had to help the alternate team move on. It is time he does the same.

“It was an honor meeting you all,” He addresses the alternate team. “Thank you for the gifts. Please remember your Keith as not a tragedy, but a motivation in ending this war.”

“We will.” Shiro says. “Thank you for passing on his message and giving us closure. Be safe, and remember,” alternate Shiro begins, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips. “Patience yields focus.”

With that, Keith leads his team to the lionses hangar. As everyone is entering their lions, Keith is suddenly pushed to the ground by an unforeseen force. He barely had time to turn around to spot the perpetrator--or should he say perpetrators. The alternate team, minus alternate Shiro, threw themselves at him for one last embrace. Alternate Pidge’s arms wrapped around his torso, Alternate Lance and alternate Allura on either side of him, and alternate Hunk squishing them all together in one massive hug. They are crying, but Keith knows they won’t stay like that forever. He welcomes the crash, laughing and crying with them. After everything, after watching the team fall apart and come back together, after passing along a message from beyond the grave, after being stabbed and nearly dying in front of their eyes a second time, Keith lets himself give way to the dam burrowed deep in him. He holds them close, hoping they will be okay as soon as he passes through the rift. Please, let their pain subside. Free them from the unfortunate loss they were cursed with.

“Don’t forget to read m-my note,” Alternate Pidge says, sniffing as she attempts to speak clearly.  
“I won’t.”

“Eat lots of food goo and get plenty of rest.” Alternate Hunk says.

“I’ll try my best.”

“Do take care of yourself. Don’t let an injury go without proper care.” Alternate Allura adds.

“I’ll be careful.”

“Be safe.” Alternate Lance whispers, being the last one to release Keith.

“I promise.” Keith swears, their hands brushing for one last time. As Keith boards black, he knows all eyes are on him. He can sense the loss in their souls already, but wills himself not to turn around in fear he may break down. 

The alternate team watches as the second pair of lions go through the rift. And they continued to watch when they have long gone--when Keith has left. The golden, luminescent tear in the universe sealed up as soon as voltron’s body disappeared within its light. 

Keith’s visit was but a small gleam in a sea of darkness; a flicker of flames and warmth slowly dissipated into an eternal winter. No matter how much they wish it, how much they want it, they could not bring him back. They could not create a technology fit for travelling universes in order to bring back the dead.

No, it would be playing God. Keith, their Keith, wouldn’t like it. And as his counterpart said, it is time to move on and continue the good fight.

“You going to be okay?” Hunk asks Lance, the remaining paladin staring up at the area they disappeared in.

“I will be.” He says.

Hunk stays with him the entire time, yellow and blue supporting the weight both had to bare. 

At least in one reality their passed friend lives on, their other selves never having to see a universe without their red paladin. 

\-------------------------------------------------

The team forgot how rough going through a rift in time and space is.

It did not help they still had to retrieve the quintessence Lotor requested, Allura internally cursing herself for the deal. But she is not one to go back on her word, so despite her reluctance, she pushes for the collection of quintessence.

It is long and hard, voltron barely holding on by a thread as the unstable field rocks their systems a second time, their readings off the charts.

Pidge yells into the monitor that they could only retrieve a little bit, or else the entirety of voltron will collapse and leave them defenseless. Possibly stuck in the rift until a new tear occurs. It could be days, months, even centuries for another rift to open up. As Coran said before they left, rifts are rare in the universe, most likely caused by the destruction of black holes or stars supernova, thought those tears in reality are quick and less likely to linger. 

But just retrieving said small portion was costly. The controls went haywire, the lions sending out distressed emotions to their paladins, saying they need to get out of the rift now. Lights flicker on and off, the screeching of the machines edging towards destruction assaulting the paladin’s ears. The only one not affected was the comatosed clone, unable to be awakened due to the pod and the serum running through his veins.

Keith pushes for the opening, seeing a white light at the end of the rift. As they approached it, however, he felt a searing pain in his abdominal area. He makes to ignore it, keeping his hands on the shaking controls and pressing whatever buttons necessary to cool down the overload or to move them along faster. But then the searing turns into a rippling sensation, the burning now a stabbing pain. A draft of wetness is felt on his skin, and as he covers his cry of anguish from the comms with a hand, a cough shakes his body and splurges blood on his palm. 

Kolivan, who is riding with Keith, does not keep up the silent act.

The leader of the Blade of Marmora switches on the communicator, Allura’s image popping up. She looks up from what she was doing and gave Kolivan a quizzical look, not seeing Keith until he moves to the side. 

Keith sits there, blood drenching is torn suit from his once healed wound, eyes squinting in concentration to either remain conscious or to keep the team together. Allura does not know. All she knew was Keith is not okay.

“Kolivan, what happened!?” She asks in a panic, her anxiety spiking through the roof. Not only is voltron shutting down, but Keith is back to his injured self. As if the healing pod did not affect a single aspect of his damaged body.

Kolivan remains cool, calm; used to sudden and drastic occurrences. “Keith’s wounds opened up again. I’m afraid if we do not get out of here fast enough, voltron will not be the only one sapped lifeless.”

Allura pushes on her controls, sending out a message to the rest of the paladins.

“Everyone, put all your effort into passing the rift. We need to exit now!”

“We are almost there. I say we have about 30% power left until we shut down.” Pidge estimates, tapping away at her controls.

“We need to go faster. Before 30% is reached.” Allura says. “Keith’s wounds opened back up. If anything they are more damaged than before.”

“Wait, what?” Lance exclaims. “I thought we healed him!”

“Yeah, wasn’t that the point of the altean quintessence mumbo jumbo?” Hunk asks, letting out a grunt as they are hit with another wave of mechanical failings. Their thrusters stutter, nearly going out until Lance plugs in his bayard at the same time as Keith, both their lions sending a message for them to use them at once. Keith is close to losing consciousness, but takes the hint from black and forces himself to shove the black bayard into the opening the lion displays before him.

Allura can think of only one reason why Keith has reverted back to his injured self.

“The quintessence is being drained from voltron. Since we used an abundance of quintessence to heal Keith, it must be sapping it away from him as if he were one of the machines. We must hurry!”

“On it, princess,” Lance says, the thrusters going into maximum overdrive, though this caused voltron to go even more crazy. 

Lance pops up a window to Keith’s lion. If he wasn’t so focused on leaving the rift, he would have vomited at the sight.

Keith is barely holding his guts in, red coloring his suit into a darker purple. He is pale and sweaty, a grimace appearing on his face as Kolivan puts a hand on his wound to cease the bleeding. His body looks lifeless; minutes away from being the corpse Lance came so close to holding. But his eyes held fire; a resistance towards the dark spots dotting his vision as he veers his attention to Lance’s screen. He gives him a weak smile.

“Don’t go freaking out on me yet, sharpshooter. We are almost...ngh...there...” He winces from the rocking ship. The lions separate as they emerge from the rift, free from the screams of the malfunctioning diagnostics.. As well as quintessence. They float in zero gravity, the only sign of assistance being the altean ship several feet away.

“I’m coming over.” Lance says over the comms, jumping out of his seat and flinging himself out of his lion. “Allura, can you get ahold of Coran?”

“Already on it. He is sending Lotor over.”

“Lotor?” Lance says, dubious. “You mean the guy who nearly killed me in the other reality?”

“Lance, we don’t have time to be picky.” Allura pushes. “I don’t trust him either, but you need to trust me.”

Lance turns on his jetpack and flies into the mouth of the black lion, agape and lifeless.

He sighs. “You’re right. But if he does anything shady I’m out.”

Lance could sense a hint of a smile in her voice. “Me too. Now, get Keith out of there and lead him into the ship. The rest of us will get the lions back to the castle.”

“Roger that, princess.” He lands in the mouth of the lion, the doors to the cockpit opening as soon as he lays his eyes on it. 

Kolivan turns to the source of the noise, unsurprised by the arrival of the paladin. Keith is hidden by the back of the chair, the sign of him still alive being the ragged breaths permeating Lance’s microphone.

“He is in worse shape than before.” Kolivan states, turning the chair around. “We must hurry.”

Lance does not need to ask how long they have. Keith’s pale complexion, his hands drenched in crimson, and his eyes fluttering open and close, Lance can guess they had minutes. Seconds if they are not careful helping Keith to the waiting ship. Allura coms Lance, reporting Lotor is outside the black lion. Now is not the time to linger on Keith’s condition. With a renewed sense of confidence, Lance carefully lifts the injured boy out of the chair, eliciting a cry from him.

“Bare with me, samurai. You only get one ‘get out of jail free’ card.” He says, Keith burying his face in the crook of Lance’s neck.

“Fuck, it hurts like a bitch.”

“Keep putting pressure on it.”

“I’m trying--” Keith is cut off by a fit of coughs, bloody droplets spotting Lance’s armor. “Christ.”

“I know, I know,” Lance soothes, picking up the pace. “You’re going to be okay, just wait until we get to the castle.”

“I’m literally holding my guts in, Lance.” Keith says, gruff and drowsy. 

Lance doesn’t say anything, choosing to kiss the top of Keith’s head of sending a quick prayer to the galaxy Lotor doesn’t condemn him as he did in the other reality. Everything will be okay. They have to be, or what was the point in Keith’s life being saved? If he were meant to die, he should have died in the pod. But no, he held on. Lance will not stand for his reality losing two black paladins; two teammates, and the boy he loves. Fate can fight him, and he will win.

Much to Lance’s relief and weariness, Lotor is behind the cruiser’s controls, a silent exchange between the paladin and fallen prince of the Galra empire. 

Lance made to settle in when Allura crackles in his mic. “Lance, we will need your help in taking the lions to the castle. Give Keith to Kolivan and return to Red.”

“But--”

A gloved hand pulls Lance’s gaze down. It is sticky and wet, but Lance doesn’t care. His attention is focusing on amethyst orbs urging him to follow orders, the exhaustion subsiding to display the twinkle of encouragement and pride.

“Go, Kolivan will take care of me.”

Lance is torn. He doesn’t want to leave Keith, not like last time when he soon collapsed and gave in to his injuries, Lance sure he had lost his opportunity to stay with him until his last breath. But seeing the determination in his eyes, the stubborn will to resist death’s offered hand, Lance gave in.

Like him, Keith is a soldier. Right now, they needed to put what is most important first. Despite their wishes. So, gingerly Lance hands Keith to Kolivan. The leader of the Blade cradling him close, as if he were but a child who had fallen asleep on the floor in front of the tv and not bleeding out in large quantities. Keith grunts from the jostle, but kept himself conscious.

“I will make sure he is safe.” Kolivan vows.

“I have faith. We will meet up with you later.” Lance turns to leave, but angles a side eye at Lotor. The exiled prince mearley watched, showing no signs of a hidden agenda or true concern for the paladin in peril. 

“You,” Lance starts, narrowing his eyes at the man. “You get them to the castle fast. No pit stops, no detours. If Keith isn’t in a pod by the time we arrive, you’ll be dealing with me.”

“Oh?” The prince quirks an eyebrow, curiosity and amusement gleams in his dark azure eyes. “Do you not have faith in me, paladin?”

“I don’t trust you. But as of now, my opinion is of no use. I don’t care if you’re a prince with good hair. I will find you if you are the reason he dies.”

Lotor waves his hand at Lance, seeing no reason to fight. “I give you my word he will make it to the castle in one piece. I am not the barbarian you accuse me of.”

Lance doesn’t miss a beat, skeptical of his innocent act. “Prove it.”

With that said, Lance leaves them, hoping he did not make the worst mistake of his life by entrusting Lotor with a valuable ally and the love of his life.

\---------------------------------

“You do know food rots if it isn’t eaten right away, right?”

“Well duh, Lance. But that is no excuse for leaving a friend hungry.”

“Okay, I get it. But a whole picnic, Hunk?” Lance says dubiously, eyeing the basket hanging off his best friend’s arm. “If there were grave watchers they would hate you for the mess.”

Hunk purses his lips, humming in thought. “It is a good thing then that there isn’t any.”

Lance just shakes his head, hiding the growing smile. He initially was going to visit Keith by himself, flowers in hand and a large time gap between them. The battle with Lotor, Zarkon, and Haggar has been brutal, leaving the team in need of recovery time. Lance, the regular visitor he was, had to stop coming for a time due to continuous missions and intense battles with several fleets of newly progressed galra technologies. When they did have free time, it was short lived. But while the window of opportunity was open for him and the team to do whatever they liked--training, sleeping, swimming--Lance paid a visit to Keith’s AI.

It was weird, at first. Lance was not used to seeing blue on him, his red jacket and black clothes surprising him. The Keith from the other reality must have known how much they would rather not be reminded of his demise. Whether it was through his blade or his uniform, they would much rather see him in his earth clothes than in the suit he died in.

Like Allura’s father, Keith greeted him warmly. He was quiet, awaiting for any questions Lance had but never losing the fondness in his gaze. Lance went so far as to try and touch him, but when his hand fell through the image the illusion of Keith being back shattered. It took him a moment to recover. He had to remember alternate Keith’s words, that he has to be strong for the both of them. They will reunite. It may not be now, it may not be under the circumstances Lance wished for, but they will. That alone was what kept Lance going. And what made him smile up at the hologram, telling Keith of the missions and their personal adventures. 

He listened. Occasionally gave advice or told him of some possible strategies the galra and Lotor may take based on the Blade’s intel. Nevertheless, Lance lost enough time in the AI room he did not realize he fell asleep on the floor. The only indication of anyone coming into the room to find him was a blue blanket draped over his shoulders, Lance wanting to believe it was Keith, but knowing it was most likely Hunk. He has always been a worrier. 

Which eventually led to Hunk asking if he could accompany Lance on his overdue visit. Hunk had visited by himself a couple of times, but not nearly as much as Lance. It was mostly during the time when the wounds were still fresh, everyone’s heart bleeding by the simple thought of seeing the grave after the grim funeral. They still hurt; ache for the past they can never recover. But just like Lance, they remember Keith’s words and take baby steps in lifting the dark, tear stained gauze from their eyes. They claimed their eyes were sewn shut, condemned to a life of obsidian and snow. In reality, they were stubborn in removing the veil and laying their eyes on a bright, orange star and the sound of waves and bird cries.

“Do you think he likes pasta with a side of food goo? I couldn’t find mash potatoes.” Hunk swishes the contents in the dish, concern marring his brow.

Lance shook his head. “I think where he is he has a buffet of the best foods, but I’m sure he will appreciate the gesture.”

“But what if they don’t?” Hunk questions, delving into the unknown faster than Lance could shoot a target. “What if the cake I left him was the only thing he had up there? What if he has been starving???? Lance he needs his nutrients.”

He laughs, loud and hearty. “Hunk, I’m sure he is okay. You’re as bad as my mom.”

“Well excuse me for being concerned about his lack of a diet.” Hunk pouts, jutting his lower lip out.

“Didn’t you also write him a letter?”

“I did. Besides the AI, we can’t talk to him directly,” Hunk pulls out an envelope, smiling. “If he received your necklace, maybe he wouldn’t mind a letter saying hi.”

Lance cocks his head to to the side, thinking of the possibility. “Mmm, maybe. Doesn’t hurt to try--”

He is cut off upon laying his eyes on the area where Keith’s grave is, noticing figures surrounding the headstone. I couldn’t make out their features or faces, two dark creatures digging into the ground. One of them picks up the Balmeran necklace hanging from the side, moving to store it in a pouch on its side.

“Hey!” Lance screams, running to the mystery creatures. “Hey! That isn’t yours!”

Lance hadn’t heard of grave robbers existing on the planet, but then again there is a first for everything. With how the Galran empire has sapped resources and doomed civilians of a large array of planets to their form of poverty, robbery and illegal trade is sure to have risen in the past 10,000 years. It does not surprise Lance grave robbers were a thing. What did surprise them is they are robbing a site for the fallen. 

A domain for the soldiers who fought hard for freedom.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. But this takes on a whole new level of disrespect. It enraged Lance, the paladin fully aware he will throttle them if they think they are leaving with anything that belonged to Keith, let alone the soldiers fifty feet below him.

They turn to him, their bodies jumping in surprise. One of them whips out a knife, prepared to fight Lance for the items they have so far retrieved. But before Lance could so much as aim his rifle at them, a bright purple light flashes past him, hitting the grave robber to the left off their feet. Another shot rang out, the second robber dropping the knife as the bolt burns their hands. Spooked by the source of the shots they disperse, dropping the artifacts in a small heap and running the opposite of Lance. The blue aura of the crystal shone in the gravel, sending a wave of relief to Lance. At least they didn’t take off with the necklace. 

More importantly, however, who shot the robbers? Lance didn’t have time to pull the trigger, and Hunk was too busy lugging around a basket to whip out and form his bayard.

Lance ferociously looks around the area, scanning for any potential allies or threats. Whoever they are, they can be friend or foe. Just because they scared off a couple of grave robbers doesn’t mean they are good. The ground he stood on may be a last home for the fallen, but those who venture into its domains can hold ill intent. 

His eyes land on a humanoid figure a little bit aways on his left, closer to Keith’s grave and a gun cocked where the robbers were. The armor is a combination of red and purple, a Galra empire symbol carved into the chestplate. Their face is hidden behind a helmet, no doubt to breathe better due to the lack of breathable chemicals. The glass is dark, obsidian covering any semblance of identification. 

What was a Galran empire soldier doing among a cemetery for dead rebels? Certainly not to pay their respects. The rebels are defined by their refusal to conform to Galra rule, choosing to die in the name of justice than silently live in an age of tyranny. Are they here to destroy the monument? Destroy headstones, on the order to eradicate anything that could inspire the rebellion to move forward in their cause?

Or were they here because they tracked down the whereabouts of the paladins? Hunk and Lance could be in danger. They could have found out somehow they frequent the gloomy site and have sent reinforcements to take down the paladins of voltron. 

Lance was about to aim his rifle to the Galra soldier until they hook their weapon on their belt, disarmed. In their other hand they held a bundle of white flowers, the loss of the gun allowing them to cradle the plant as if it were a small child. Lance watches them, weary of their presence and wanting to know where exactly they were going. Which grave they may visit, if it is a visit at all. 

“Should we contact Allura and Shiro?” Hunk whispers in Lance’s ear. “They are one of Zarkon’s goons.”

No, that doesn’t feel right. Lance doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t feel a threatening aura coming from the being. He knew there were Galra on voltron’s side, but they mostly reside with the Blade, decked out in the same purple and black armor. 

“No, this could be good for gathering intel.” Lance says, moving a few steps forward. “Stay by me and don’t attack unless necessary.”

“Roger that.”

The ground beneath their feet is gravel, so it made it difficult to mask their presence. Though Lance earlier made a ruckus, the soldier seems to not have noticed them. They did not so much as glance their way, keeping their attention on whatever gravestone they plan to visit. It isn’t until Lance processed their slowing movements did he realize which grave they were stopping by.

It is Keith’s.

“Did Keith have a galra cousin we didn’t know about?” Hunk asks

“I don’t know. Kolivan didn’t mention any family within the blade or galra empire.” Lance frowns. Well, he isn’t going to find answers by standing around.

He ignores Hunk squawk as he runs over to Keith’s grave, not quite considering the potential consequences of his actions. For all he knew this could be a trap; a way of lurring the paladins via their emotions and wish for answers. But something tells Lance he has no reason to be scared. No reason to question this mysterious figure. For if there is one thing Lance is good at, its analyzing a person’s true intent. He is trained to focus and take note of anything out of the ordinary, that’s why he makes a good sniper. Now is no different.

As he got closer, he sees they have completely stopped at the headstone, kneeling down and laying the flowers on the gravel. Their posture is hunched, head hanging low and hands entwined. 

He slows his pace and carefully approaches the figure. The closer he looked the more he noticed certains aspects, like the dip of their waist and the slight curve in their chestplate.

They were female. At least, under his knowledge they are. He could be wrong since aliens do not necessarily have the same physique and traits as humans. 

As soon as he stepped within touching distance of the grave, the figure whirls around and aims a gun at him, Lance freezing as he stares down the barrel of a gun.

“Woah, Woah!” He yells, putting his hands up. “I come in peace!” 

Her piercing gaze pushes through the shadows of her helmet, yellow and light indigo narrowing at him. “Who are you? What are you doing--” She stops, her eyes resting on his armor. “You’re a paladin.” She says in awe.

“And you’re...a friend of Keith?” He couldn’t figure out the connection. Keith never mentioned about having a friend in the Blades. It was hard to make friends, what with them constantly being under the threat of dying. Maybe Lance is wrong. Maybe he did make one inside the Blade but failed to mention it to them. He had a hard time making friends, but that didn’t mean it was impossible. He befriended all the paladins, afterall.

She stands up, facing him head on. “Not exactly.”

“Then who are you?” Lance eyes her wearily. “You’re not here to kill us. You would have done so already if that was the case.”

“Correct,” She looks back at the headstone, sadness dimming the aggressive glint in her irises. “I...I’m Krolia. Keith’s mother.”

Lance is taken aback. “His...mother?” 

That’s right, Lance grew up with a single dad, according to Shiro. When Keith’s father passed away, he was deemed an orphan due to his mother’s whereabouts, let alone her identity, never being known. He remembers Keith briefly mentioning her in his vlog, Lance and Pidge having to end recording early because Keith grew emotional over her. Keith refused to ask Kolivan about her, Lance and Shiro expecting it was because he would rather believe his mother was dead than to believe she had abandoned him. 

It is at that moment Hunk caught up to Lance, wheezing. “Jeez Lance, at least give me a warning before you leave me in the dust.” He notices Krolia, his back straightening and a hand grazing his bayard. “Are they--”

Lance puts an arm on Hunk’s hand reaching for the bayard. “She’s fine. She’s...” He gazes back at her, questions swirling in his mind. “She is his mother.”

“His mom!?” Hunk’s mouth gapes, eyes as wide as cylinders. “You’re--but he never mentioned you.”

“Of course he didn’t. I left him with his father when he was just a baby.” She sets a hand on top of the grave, a far away look. “I never got the chance to meet him.”

“Okay, hold up,” Lance starts, suspicious. “If you’re his mother, than how come you’re working for the Galra empire? Your son was a Blade.”

She is silent for a moment, debating if she should inform them of her real position. “I am aware. This,” she says as she points to the Galran empire insignia. “Is a ruse. I am an undercover blade agent, much like Thace was. Kolivan could not risk telling anyone of my mission, including Keith.”

That makes sense. The Blades are all about the mission. It comes to no surprise they kept Krolia’s existence under wraps, but still. It made Lance a little bitter. Like Allura he struggles with the Blade’s ideology, but holds no ill will against them. He just wishes they took matters differently.

Lance hugs the flowers he brought close, grimacing at the fact. “That is unfortunate. He...He always wondered about you.”

Krolia blinks, not expecting said answer. “He did?”

“Yeah. Before he passed and when he was with voltron, he, er...” He tries to think of a way to say what happened without inflicting negative feelings on Krolia. “He just wondered what happened.”

“You’re hiding the truth.” Krolia bluntly says, seeing well past Lance’s facade. “I mourn my son, but I am not unfamiliar with death. I have lost friends; colleagues, even more family. I ask you as a mother, what went through his head?”

Lance is hesitant. But since Krolia literally asked for the truth, and the fact she is a soldier as well, he opens up. Lord knows his mom would want the same thing if their roles were reversed. 

“He mentioned how his natural distrust of people and the walls he built around him stems from you. He wondered why he wasn’t good enough for you. If...” Lance pauses, the coppery words on the tip of his tongue. “If you thought he was broken.”

“He...thought that?” She says, breathless and eyes wide in horror. She puts a hand to her mouth, looking away from Lance and Hunk to focus on the grave before her. Lance and Hunk exchange a look, worried they had done more damage than good. 

Krolia did not speak for a time, choosing to cross her arms and emotionally distance herself from the two paladins. Her stature, the way she carried herself, her eyes and how she talked, she reminds Lance of Keith. He no doubts see the resemblance with or without the helmet. His human side he got from his father, but his personality, his fighting style, it no doubt mirrored his mother. Hell, they both are--were--a part of the Blade. Lance doesn’t know Krolia very well. He hasn’t been told anything about her, but already he feels as if he did know her. Because he knew and loved her son.

Krolia takes a shaky breath, her shoulders slightly trembling before she composes herself into a painful coolness.

“I never wanted to abandon my son. I wish I could have--I wanted to stay with him.”

“But?”

She closes her eyes. “But the mission wouldn’t allow it.”

Lance’s eye twitches. Why is it always the fucking mission. Kolivan is a fantastic leader, on par with Allura. But Lance is really hating the mission excuse. It is what got Keith killed, now he finds out it is one tearing families apart. 

“What do you mean the mission wouldn’t allow it? Missions already take lives, you really were expected to destroy your happiness too?”

Krolia fixes him with a cool gaze, expecting reaction. Krolia is aware of voltron and their take on the war efforts. They are less likely to sacrifice and are more about saving the individual rather than take the opportunity to further destabilize the Galran empire. Krolia cannot be offended by Lance’s question. She too questions the Blade’s ideology, but also understands how it had kept them thriving for so long. 

“I didn’t leave for me. I left...” She flickers back to the grave, her voice going soft. “I left to protect the person I loved most. You see, I crashed on earth, rendering me stranded in unfamiliar territory. It wasn’t until I met Keith’s father and had a child with him did official Galra scouts returned to Earth for the blue lion.”

“Wait, the empire found the lion before we did?” Hunk asks, frowning. “Then why didn’t they take it? They had Red, but Blue was still in that strange cave.”

Krolia explains how she and Keith’s father took down the returning scouts. Due to Krolia and her assigned scouts never reporting back to either Zarkon or Kolivan, another fleet was sent to check out what could have caused the disappearance of Krolia’s team. It was assumed the area could have harbored a lion afterall, protectors of the lion believed to have taken out the first batch of scouts. Krolia knew if she did not report back, a third group would be sent, placing not just her, but the galaxy in danger of retrieving a second lion. All they had to do was retrieve four out of the five lions, considering black remained behind closed doors and required the existence of the other lions. 

So with a heavy heart, Krolia packed her things and took the least damaged Galra cruiser back to headquarters, informing Kolivan of her findings and reporting to the empire there was no lion on Earth. By her reporting back, she was able to divert them away from not only blue, but from potentially harming Keith and her lover if her true intentions were discovered. 

“I couldn’t bare putting them in danger again. Keith’s father ended up injured the first time we faced the second wave of scouts. I refused to put my child in the same position. But,” She places a hand on Keith’s grave, looking down solemnly. “I see I still failed.”

“Then why didn’t you ask Kolivan to reject Keith in joining the Blades?” Hunk asks. “You knew what being a member entails. Why stay silent?”

She lets out a sad chuckle. “Because if Keith was anything like me or his father, he would have fought Kolivan on it. I never got to know him, but from what Kolivan told me, he was stubborn in his choices.” 

The small smile slowly disappears. “Kolivan promised he would keep him safe.”

There was a hint of anger in her voice; a silent rage brewing from broken promises and internalized betrayal. It is different from Allura’s. Allura’s anger came from the slaughtering of her people and the third time she lost someone of value to the Galra. Krolia, on the other hand, is mourning the loss of her _ child _ . She has seen death in all shapes and forms, but this one is different. This one is personal, a mama bear seeking vengeance for the murder of her offspring. Lance is sure his own mother would react the same way, his heart aching at the thought. He wonders if Keith could see his mother. The other Keith didn’t send a message for her, but on those moments Lance wish he could have told him of her. Both of them never mentioned their mother. Keith was sure she was dead. 

He hopes Keith could see her. See she never wanted to abandon her baby. That she was sorry and would give anything to bring him back. 

“It isn’t Kolivan’s fault,” Lance says, surprising the woman. His eyes linger on the grave, bending down to pick up the necklace and wrap it back on its makeshift hanger. “It is the war. No matter how much we resisted, no matter the desire, the war and death doesn’t exclude anyone.”

He flickers a look back to her. “That’s why we have to win. So no one else experiences what we have.”

Hunk steps up, quiet for the most part as a way to let his best friend and the woman before him get everything out. 

“Krolia, your son did not die in vain. He gave his life for us, and we will honor him by taking down Zarkon and his empire. He may be gone, but his spirit continues as we fight.”

“Trust me when I say I understand your grief,” Lance says. “But...while you weren’t able to meet your son, we had. He was our friend. We too want to bring him back. Prevent him from sacrificing himself. But we can’t. If we linger, we are only hurting him and what he stood for.”

Krolia stares as them, searching their faces. These boys--no, these soldiers--they may look young and inexperienced, but they held a fire within their souls. The flames brim wildly, scorching those who dare challenge them. The tall and gangly one she heard inherited the Red lion, the previous lion of her son. He was bringing her son flowers; he began to chase away the deviants Krolia shot at, a fierce protectiveness taking hold of his body. She also noted a blue crystal hanging from his neck--A similar one to the crystal hanging on her son’s grave.

Meanwhile the yellow cladded paladin, the one holding a basket and his cherubic face taking on a form of fight and determination, he is not one to be messed with. He may look innocent and incapable to fight, but judging by the narrowing of his eyes as he looks towards the area where the robbers fled, he would not hesitate in taking out someone harming his friends--his allies. 

These two loved her son very much. While they are physically standing upright, she can tell they had endured a long period of mourning, the blues and browns of their souls containing tears, scratches, and vicious self destruction. They had screamed and cried, howling their regret and agony outwardly for the entire universe to hear, or silently crumble in the confines of themselves--much like she had. 

At least she knows he didn’t die without being aware he was loved.

Lance takes a step towards her and, with a kind smile, lends out his hand. 

“I’m Lance, and my buddy here is Hunk. If you’re open to it, we will gladly tell you about your son. You missed out on personally meeting him, but let us be a gateway for you to know how much he accomplished in his short life.”

Krolia hesitated. But in the end, she took the young boy’s hand.

She left the cemetery that night with a sense of peace.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The letter from alternate Pidge is not forgotten.

_ Dear Keith, _

_ By the time you read this, you will already have passed the threshold between our realities, sentencing us to never seeing you again. _

_ I write this letter as both a warning and a goodbye. _

_ Ever since your death here, Shiro has informed us of what you’ve been through. You’re fiery spirit, you’re desire to do good, and your qualms with your galra side. Technically speaking, I should hate all galra. They kidnapped my father and brother, putting them through absolute hell. I should hate what they had done to Allura and Coran’s species. I should curse their existence for enacting a tyrannical system upon most of the galaxy. _

_ But I can’t. Because not only has the blades shown me they all aren’t bad, but that you are a prime symbol of what they could be. What they were meant to be if it wasn’t for the corruption of the rift in Daibazaal. _

_ No matter the voices in your head, no matter what your heritage is, you are our Keith. You are our red paladin, our friend, and you are a hero. _

_ Do not ever forget that.  _

_ And do not go thinking sacrificing yourself is always a grand idea, because it isn’t. If you pull such a stunt again in that reality I will find a way there just to kick your ass, understand? _

_ I miss you, and I will always miss you. But I’m grateful for the chance we were given to spend time with you one last time. To laugh with you; to cry with you and to love you full on. No holding back. Maybe it was chance. Maybe it was fate. But either way, we were given a second chance. I will forever cherish these new memories you leave us with. You may not be our Keith, but you are still Keith.  _

_ The amazing, talented, sword wielding nerd I had the privilege of knowing.  _

_ There is a universe out there where we did not meet. Where none of this happened. I’m glad I’m not part of that universe, because if I had to choose between knowing you and being in pain versus not knowing you and being unaffected, I’d choose the former. Not feeling pain can be just as bad as feeling it, for you don’t know if you’re bleeding out until it’s too late.  _

_ Stay safe. Don’t forget us. Don’t forget you’re loved. _

_ Because you are! _

_ We will miss you. So so so much. Just as I write this I’m resisting the urge to cry. And I hate crying. It’s one of the few things we had in common--no wonder Lance lumped us in the sass category. He always loved messing with us. Remember when I zapped him with my bayard? Your sides hurt so much from laughing Coran had to check if you broke anything. _

_ Speaking of Lance, give him as much of your love as possible over there. In this reality he is still Lance, but a part of him did die with you. He doesn’t nearly make fun of you as he used to. If anything, when you’re brought up, he will be quiet, staring at the stars with a far away gaze.  _

_ I get it, in a way. A piece of myself died as well. I’m still your salty gremlin, but I don’t train nearly as much as when you lived at the castle. And playing the games me and Lance scored at the space mall haven’t been touched since our last round, when we were on the second to last level before a mission came in and we had to stop mid battle. _

_ It has been on the same saved file ever since. _

_ Maybe one day I’ll be able to play it again. But not for awhile, because every time I try it just doesn’t feel the same. _

_ So beat the level with my other self! I’d like the both of you to know the ending to the game, and I want her to play it again with you, until you’re sick of it and cave into going back to the space mall.  _

_ Bake with Hunk, strategize with Allura, fix the castle with Coran, find Shiro and help him through his PTSD, and love Lance. Love him in the way you weren’t when you were alive. Despite our bickering, I love his goofy, sweet, flirtatious self. Don’t let it die as it did here.  _

_ Lastly, protect yourself. Your father may be gone, you’re mother MIA, and Shiro in an unreachable place. Though these misgivings make your confidence wane and love for yourself withers, you still have a family. _

_ It’s us. It’s them. You aren’t alone anymore. _

_ Thank you for visiting us. Thank you for helping us heal. _

_ Live long and kick ass. _

_ Love, _

_ Alternate Pidge _

_ \----------------------------------------------- _

“You really like giving us scares, don’t you?” 

“Mmm...No, but I do like these moments.”

“What, being bandaged up and sworn to stay in bed?”

Keith shakes his head, his eyes closed and head resting on Lance’s chest. “No, just...laying here. With you.”

Keith can feel a blush coat his cheeks as Lance chuckles underneath him, rifling his hands through Keith’s messy locks. “Who knew you were such a cat.”

“I’m not a cat.”

“I’m gonna call you kitty Keith.” Lance jokes, yelping when Keith flicks his nose.

“Don’t. Or else no more snuggles.”

“You wound me, Keith!” Lance cries. “Depriving me of cute petnames.”

“You’ll live.” Keith mumbles, his lids drooping as he grew tired. He is wrapped in heavy blankets, gauze covering his midsection to keep the healing process in tact. Lotor managed to get him and Kolivan to the castle in time, though not before passing out in the Blade leader’s arms. According to Coran, Keith was in the pod for a week, the pods from the other reality knocking off the additional week, but still leaving him in bad shape. He is currently under the orders to take it easy and stay in bed when able. While he wants to train, Kolivan and Allura refuse to allow him to place strain on his body. Even Coran got involved, stating his vitals may be fine, but there is still sensitivity due to the severity of his injuries.

Clone Shiro was taken to a pod and remains there, forever suspended in a coma for the good of the team. Keith is back to being the team’s leader, but Allura assured him and the rest of the team she had them travelled to a safe part of the galaxy for recuperation. Going back into their fight is not permitted until everyone is okay.

Lotor did have some qualms about the order, stating they must strike while the empire is in disarray. But Allura shot him down, informing him that while they have some quintessence he requested, they have other fish to fry. Such as finding another hole in the universe to gain more quintessence. Lotor was not pleased, but he is dealing with the situation his own way--coming up with strategies on taking down several Galra facilities as soon as the voltron team recovered.

Pidge, Hunk, Allura, Coran, and Lance awaited for Keith’s release from the pod. As soon as he popped out, Coran double checked on his healed wounds and gave him the go ahead to eat and regain mobility in his legs. They weren’t completely useless, but they were wobbly and foreign as he learned to walk again.

They were all worried. Stressing over the possibility that Keith may not pull through for a second time. That they spent all their luck and fate has come to snatch their friend away.

But as soon as Keith emerged breathing and fixed, the team held him close as they cried tears of joy.

Their reality is different. They have the good end. Out of the millions of realities, they avoided the tragedy they saw past the rift. 

Keith was led to his room and, without actually thinking, asked Lance to stay. Keith being Keith, attempted to retract his statement, saying he was fine alone and that Lance can retire to his room. Keith doesn’t need a caretaker, and he debated on whether the kiss they shared was out of real love or just an impulse upon seeing his teammate okay. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around his feelings actually being reciprocated. They had been buried for so long he didn’t even entertain the possibility of Lance liking him back.

But Lance just flung himself on Keith’s bed, patting the space next to him and said he would love to stay with him.

Hence their current position--Keith falling asleep as Lance mindlessly pets him.

“You know, that alternate reality wasn’t fun. But it did open my eyes.” Lance says, staring up at the ceiling.

Keith shifts to look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“Er...Well, looking back I don’t think I would have confessed otherwise. Seeing your grave, seeing how my other self wasn’t far off from me, it all just hit me like a ton of bricks.”

“About?”

“How short life is. How this fight with the Galra isn’t some fantasy. Or that we are guaranteed a happy ending because we fight in the name of freedom.” Lance shifts so that Keith is on the other side of him, the two facing one another. His gaze travels up and down Keith’s body, scanning his wounds and lightly touching them with the tips of his fingers.

“The other you was dead. What’s worse is you almost died in my arms. I thought for sure I had lost you...”

“But you didn’t,” Keith cups his face, tired but loving eyes melting Lance’s insides. “I made it. That is the important thing.”

“Yes, but you almost didn’t. You practically gave up towards the end...”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that. It is true he gave up towards the end. He was holding his insides in the palms of his hands. He was in agonizing pain he wanted it to be over. He is a fighter, but to force yourself to breathe in copper and spew out red, your body tends to take control rather than your logic. 

“I did,” He whispers. “But I also didn’t want to leave you. Any of you. I just...” What could he say? There was nothing he could think of that would justify his acceptance at dying. It is true he didn’t want to leave, but the  _ pain _ , it drowned him. It suffocated him by his own blood and bones.

“You weren’t okay, I understand.” Lance comforts, basking in Keith’s touch and covering the other paladin’s hand with his own. “I’m just glad I can feel your warmth.”

“Lance?”

“Yeah?”

Keith hesitates, not fully sure if he should say what he wants to say. It is a big leap for him. He doesn’t say it often, not even to Shiro in the past. He is a man of actions rather than words. But as he and Lance lay together in the middle of the night, both healing from the trials they endured physically and emotionally, he felt like he owed it to Lance. To vocally tell him what is in his head, like how he did when Keith was dying in his arms.

“I...I love you.”

There, he said it. The most unused words in his vocabulary. He regrets it for a second, not hearing a reply from Lance. This is why he doesn’t make the first move. He feels like a fool. An idiot who stepped into a trap knowing it was going to blow him to pieces.

But then Lance pulls him in, Keith ignoring the slight ache in his ribs as he did. 

“I love you too, mullet.”

Keith’s eye twitched. “Really? You really have to add my hair into the mix? What is with you and--”

He is cut off by a kiss. Keith being Keith, he doesn’t fight against it. Lance eventually pulls away, a goofy smile on his face.

“It’s nice to have you back.”

\-------------------------------------------

Back in the alternate reality, the Galra is defeated. Allura creates a council with allying planets, figuring out how to implement laws and keep the remaining dissenters at bay ethically. In a fight against evil, Allura defeated the mother-son duo, Lotor and Honerva perishing via Allura’s new found skills from travelling to the mythical Oriande. An Altean alchemy mine that would lend its secrets to those deemed worthy of its knowledge. Once believed to be a fairy tale was now a reality, aiding not just Allura, but Voltron as well in its fight against the empire. In addition, Allura and the team found a remaining colony of Alteans, hidden by Lotor and Honerva so they could breed and harvest their quintessence. Many were lost to the experiments, their bodies entered a form of decay and rigor mortis. But those that remained were taking under Allura’s wing, being told of the bravery of King Alfor and how Allura is the daughter of the mighty king. She freed them from the hidden area, the sheltered Alteans safe to roam the universe as they did in their prime. They could not visit their old home. But what they could do is build a new, better Altea.

Zarkon eventually fell after the demise of his wife and son, died in a long going fight against the voltron coalition and the lions themselves. It was a close call for both sides; both sure to be destroyed, both convinced they would win even if their body was lost. Lucky for the paladins, they sustained injuries a healing pod could fix, and soon retired when the galaxy was deemed safe.

Allura and Coran remained to be the heads of the pursuit to peace, Allura rejecting the title as empress as to not create a domino effect of a monarchy, but rather a democracy among other alien species and the Alteans. The Blade of Marmora, no longer tasked with missions against the Galra, joined the campaign. Kolivan and Krolia represented the Galra wishing for progress and peace, hanging up their swords for a seat.

The paladins, yearning for the home they had been ripped away from, was allowed to return to Earth. Though Pidge made a device to keep all of them in contact with the princess in case anything was to go awry. While they had won the war, they had not instantly gave way to ease. There was a lot of work to be done; plenty of diplomacy, debates, and tracking down of the bloodthirsty Galra that want to take up the title as “emperor” and continue Zarkon’s legacy.

Keith’s grave was transferred to Earth, Lance and Shiro adamant on him being buried next to his father than reside on a planet that really wasn’t his home. They held another funeral, the garrison paying its respects and giving Keith the title “senior officer” despite never having the chance to move on from cadet status in life. The paladins still visit him, though with less tears and more laughs. Shiro had many stories to tell of the boy, and with each visit he told a new one that brought everyone a smile. Allura and Coran even visited at times, able to wormhole from a meeting to the blue and green planet.   
And when it is Keith’s birthday, every year they bring him treats and gifts despite him not able to physically hold them.  

As years go by, as the galaxy transformed into something new all together due to Allura and Coran’s influence and the paladins reunited with their families, the time of a new generation to take up the lions came. 

They passed down their helmets to those most deserving of the title “paladin”. A whole slew of new, talented cadets rose in the garrison, gaining the attention of the beholders of the lions. Without a second thought, they gave them their helmets, content to continue their lives in normalcy. Pidge and Matt returned to their home. Hunk embraced his parents, a tearful reunion and relief to see their son was not dead. Lance is driven down by his nieces and nephews, his mother crying in the arms of her husband because her youngest son was back. And Shiro, the man who hardly spoke of a family, married the man he left behind for Kerberos. 

Soon, 70 years pass, and the paladins were no longer young. They were riddled with wrinkles and grey hair, only Allura and Coran aging slower than them. But they were not far behind. 

Strangely enough, each paladin laid on their deathbed at the same time, their death rattle louder than the machines they were hooked up to. They wondered if it was because they had been bonded for a long period of time through voltron. Maybe their quintessence was infused with each other, their differing ages not mattering in the eyes of death.

It was okay, however. They lived a long, long life. They had families, made a change in the universe, and achieved their dreams. Their only regret was their red paladin died young, while they had the privilege to die of old age. 

But like he wanted, they didn’t linger too long on the thought. Especially when they were on their deathbed, all the paladins excited to see him once again.

Allura and Coran would take longer, but they knew they would soon follow their footsteps. They will be alright, for they knew they were not immortal. Their business was not done, but the second generation of paladins were.

The first to pass is Lance.

Shiro was expected to pass away first, but Lance caught on pneumonia, and at his age it could be deadly. The death rattle he exhibited was telling alone of his fate--his niece and nephew and their children watched over him in his last days. He never did marry; never had children. Though he so dearly wanted a daughter or son, he could not find him to fall in love again. He tried, oh how he tried. But in the end all he could think about was raven hair and amethyst orbs. As they say, you never quite forget your first love. 

When his family walked in on his lifeless body, he was said to be smiling peacefully.

\-----------------------

Lance does not immediately understand what happened. He found himself on the ground, surrounded by white. He couldn’t decipher if there is a floor underneath his body or if he is floating mid-air. All he notices is when he lifts his hand to rub his aching head, it isn’t wrinkled with age. 

“What the--” He quickly sits up, haphazardly patting himself down and feeling smooth flesh. His bones do not ache, his back isn’t arched. When he plucks a piece of hair from his scalp, he notices it is brown rather than the silver he had grown accustomed to.

He is young again. In fact, he felt like his eighteen year old self. He couldn’t explain it, but he doesn’t need a mirror to know he is right. How is this possible? The last thing he remembers...wasn’t he in a bed? Didn’t he have his middle aged niece check on him a moment ago? He swore he was in bed. Where could he--

“Took you long enough to show,” A voice says, freezing the now young boy. No, it couldn’t be, could it? He could hardly remember the exact sound of his voice after 20 years, let alone 60. He was a distant memory; a faded photograph with blurry figures and no visible facial features. As much as Lance wanted to hold onto his once lively self, everything about him disintegrated with his memory. The only thing he could vividly recall was his red and yellow jacket, which he had on hand in his closet.

He never was able to part with it. It was all him and the team had left--besides the other stuff he left behind.

“What are you waiting for? The least you can do is say hi after all these years.” The voice says. 

Carefully, as if he were going to destroy his hope if he moves too fast, Lance lifts his head and stares up at the person approaching him, soft irises meeting a surprised ocean.

“Keith?”

He stops and smiles, the only thing keeping them apart was the gap before them. “Hey, sharpshooter. It’s been awhile.”

“Keith...Oh my God, Keith!” Lance’s limbs are moving on his own, his slow legs back to being their athletic self and booking it high speed to the dark haired boy. It has been so long. He can hardly recall their last interaction, lost to time and a dying body. As days went by on earth, as months turned into years, a headstone was all he came to love. But now here he is, seeing and hearing the body and voice of a friend--his lost love--despite being turned into ash and stardust.

He half expected to go right through Keith. To wake up and find the reunion was just a figment of his imagination. But no, he tackles Keith to the ground, arms wrapped around his neck as the two topple to the floor. Keith caught him in his arms, breaking his fall.

Lance lifts his head and stares at Keith in awe, touching his face to really check if he is real. He’s had nightmares where he wasn’t. Fitful nights where the crash played over and over in his mind. Sometimes he would fall asleep near Keith’s grave on Earth, feeling as if arms wrapped around his middle but waking up to a bright sun and flower petals flowing with the breeze.

Keith cups Lance’s cheek, tender in his touch. “I’m sorry I was gone for so long. Don’t cry, I’m here now.”

Lance did not know he was crying until Keith points it out, his silent tears turning into hiccups and sobs. 

“You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I am.”

“I missed you. I missed you so fucking much, Keith.” He rests his head on his chest, breathing in his scent. He wills his emotions to stop the waterworks, to get a grip on the situation. But all he could do was cry out years of pent up anguish. “Please let this be real. Please.”

“Lance...” Keith coaxes, gentle as he lifts themselves into sitting position. Lance refuses to let go, though. Keith has to gingerly pry his hands away from his neck and make him look at him. Lance sniffs, trying to look Keith in the eye without getting emotional again. It was hard.

“It’s real. I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.” He dries Lance’s tears, his soft smile never leaving him. “You lived out your life like I asked. Though you did give me a couple of scares.”

Lance doesn’t need to ask what he means. He wilts, the tears slowing. “You’re talking about my fight with Lotor.”

“Yes.” Without hesitation, Keith flicks him in the nose, Lance yelping and covering the area in shock.

“What the heck?!”

“That’s for the fight with Lotor. I can’t believe I had to send a message through another Keith just for you to be careful.”

“I can’t believe you’re lecturing ME. Mister ‘I’m going to be reckless on every mission I’m on’ Kogane.”

“Exactly,” Keith says, stern. “I didn’t want you ending up like me. If I weren’t dead I would have throttled you.”

“God, you and Shiro are too much alike.” Lance grumbles, crossing his arms as he pouts.

Keith chuckles, the admonishment melting into adoration. “Yeah, but he’s nicer.” Keith leans his forehead against Lance’s, the Cuban boy blushing under the touch. He is working on getting used to physically touching Keith. With death literally separating the two, recalling the softness of his skin and the fine leather of his gloves became foreign.

“I’m happy you’re here, though,” Keith continues, closing his eyes. “Thank you for staying strong.”

Lance leans in, basking in the closeness. He is warm; butterflies in his stomach and a coat of sunshine covering his entire being. After being cold for over 60 years, winter’s frost harboring in the crevices of his heart began to evaporate. He had kept on a brave face throughout the years, moving on enough to where he tried to find love, but never truly let go of his cherished memories. He didn’t allow them to consume him; to evoke a crippling despair as he did when Keith’s death was fresh and vivid. But there was always a part of him that died with Keith, no matter how much he fought to go back to the times before they met.

Now he is whole.

Lance took his hands in his, a tender smile blessing his lips.

“I never got the chance to say it when you were alive,” he starts quietly, Keith peeking a look through heavy lashes. “But now I can. I love you, Keith Kogane. I love you.”

It is a jolt to his system. Keith has heard it time and time again when he visited his grave at the same time as Lance and the others, continuously hearing Lance proclaim the feelings he held back in their prime. He thought he would be used to it by now; that this time he would be the first to say it since Lance had said it multiple times. But here he was, frozen and eyes wide.

How his heart flutters, beating a million miles a second. 

The necklace around his neck brightens and warms, reacting to Keith’s shift in mentality. Keith thought he would maintain a calm facade when Lance entered the afterlife. Little does he know when his eyes began to tear up and he pulls Lance in, so happy he no longer goes through him whenever he tries to touch him.

“I love you too, Lance McClain.”

He said it. He loves this boy. He has loved him from the moment they worked together in missions. From the time Lance comforted him after losing Shiro a second time. For inspiring him to be a better leader. He loved him for his selflessness, for his silly jokes and his poking pet names that Keith acted like he hated but really adores. He blushed when he was in his presence and he cried when they were ripped apart by death, the team never seeing on the video feed the tears he shed before crashing. When he entered the afterlife, he remembered collapsing on the ground, screaming about the unfairness; of howling at the curse that had been dealt him. His father walked in then, which was the only comfort of the afterlife. He was with his dad, but in exchange he had to watch helplessly as his teammates mourned, as he saw each and every one of them be torn apart in different ways. It was like being set on fire all over again.

Which is why he does what he does.

He pulls away from Lance and as the boy stares at him in curiosity, Keith cups his face and kisses him, gentle and deep. Lance initially froze, not expecting Keith to be so bold. It is Lance who makes the first move, unless they are on the battlefield. But even then Keith would lag behind, leadership slow to his brain as opposed to Lance. Yet here he was kissing him on the lips. No hesitation, no sense of anxiety. 

Lance returns the kiss, burying his fingers in the tufts of his hair, his chest constricting from the fact he is really here. He isn’t dreaming. He isn’t going to wake up and find Keith not there, still buried fifty feet below ground and separated by a phenomenon Allura herself cannot fight. He won’t turn into dust, will not say goodbye and leave Lance hanging, ripping open the old wounds. It made his breath hitch, and despite his fight to stay collected, happy tears trail down his face. 

He is happy. They both are finally happy. After years of waiting, years of living with a pain never quite fading away, the holes in their souls became full. So full that when they pull apart, they are both laughing and crying. Their necklaces light up, illuminating the pair in a beautiful blue. The color may represent sadness most of the time, but in those moments the crystals are fueled with unending joy. 

But it does not stop there. 

As they move to stand up, they hear voices behind Lance. Confused, the two look towards the path Lance walked not too long ago, a total of four figures coming into view. 

The middle one is tall, decked out in black and with an Altean arm replacing his Galra one. The smallest is at his side, light gleaming from her glasses and a high ponytail. SHe stood by a man in rebel wear, a scar on his cheek. The second tallest has a headband tied around his forehead, gloved hands waving excitedly at them.

Keith and Lance share a surprised look, and without thinking twice they ran over hand in hand. Lance waves back at Hunk furiously, calling back to him.

“Hey guys look! Look who I found!”

“It was more like I found you.” 

Lance doesn’t argue with him, mostly cause he is too fucking ecstatic to have him correct his proclamation. He is holding keith’s hand. He is hearing his voice, he is full on loving this boy and he isn’t about to let anything get in the way of it.

If anything, he decides to be cheesy, giving Keith a big grin.

“No, we found each other.”

Keith is starstruck enough to not completely pay attention to his surroundings, his body losing air as he is pulled into a tight embrace, Hunk crying at large. 

“Keith! Lance! I missed you guys.”

“I was gone for five minutes.” says Lance, wiggling in his arms.

“No dude, you were gone for two months.” Hunk cries, his grip getting worse. “We had a funeral and everything.”

“Hunk, buddy,” Keith pushes out. “You’re crushing my ribs.”

“Oh! Oh I’m so sorry.” He lets go of Keith and Lance, wrapping them in a more comforting hug. “I just missed you both so much.”

Keith smiles. “Missed you too, big guy.”

As Hunk lets go, another pair of arms wraps around Keith’s middle, Pidge pushing him back with the force she is able to muster and Matt drawing him in by his shoulders. The Holt siblings were gentle but firm, Keith’s shirt becoming damp with tears.

“I came to your grave anytime I could, Keith. I missed my second brother.”

“And I missed the badass pilot I would chill with.” Matt joins.

Keith ruffles Pidge’s hair affectionately and leans into Matt, Keith’s love for the Holt siblings only increasing. 

“I’m here now. That’s what matters.”

Last but certainly not least, the man hanging behind, the person who had faith in keith from the very beginning and saved him from a life of nothingness, the person who took Keith’s demise the hardest. Shiro told himself he wouldn’t cry, but his body is shaking anyway, his legs spaghetti as the Holts separated themselves from Keith to give him room. Keith stares up at him, pride in his smile.

“Hey there, old man.”

Shiro gives in to his emotions, the ache in his chest releasing as he smiles through the tears and embraces his adopted younger brother.

If Keith thought Hunk’s hug was bone crushing, then he certainly underestimated Shiro. Though he tries not to constrict Keith, he couldn’t resist the urge to pull him in as close as he can. He lifts Keith in the air, the young boy’s grip around Shiro’s neck light as a feather compared to his strong arms sapping his mobility. The older man shook with held back sobs, but it did not take away from his strength.

Keith pats his back, it awkward and robotic. “I call you old man once and here you are exacting your revenge.” He jokes, his discomfort nothing compared to his appreciation to see his brother, no longer an outsider looking in. 

Shiro, taking the hint, loosens his hold. He puts down Keith, but doesn’t release him nearly as fast. 

“Heh, sorry Keith. I’m just glad I can finally see you again.” He ducks his head over Keith’s shoulder, the strong leader Keith knew released from the emotionally restricting titles, finally letting go of the pent up regret and self loathing. Though Keith demanded for Shiro to cease looking back on the past, the ghost of his failure lingered in the back of his mind. They occasionally whispered to him, flinging him back in the depths of despair. Yet he fought against them, taking hold of their slick, oily necks and strangled his demon’s neck. They would still come back, but he would be ready.

Now they do not so much as exist; destroyed upon him closing his eyes one last time and opening them to the world his soul will move on to.

“Me too, Shiro.”

Shiro soon wipes his tears and pulls away, leaning in again to hug Lance as well.

“I can’t forget our sharpshooter.”He says, Lance smiling at the old nickname. “Two months without you didn’t feel right.”

The team is back. They are whole again, their broken hearts mended from years of hardships, from emotional breakdowns to internalized hatred. The overwhelming ocean of negativity sinks into a drain, a light pushing it to never harm them again. Not war, not the past, and certainly not death. 

They only had one thing missing.

“What about Allura?” Lance asks, worried. “She’s all alone back there. We just--we left her. And Coran.”

“Lance--”

“Seriously, ALL of us are dead! Her friends, her family. Yeah she has her people now, but--

“Lance.”

“But for her to have to bury not one of us, but four more? How do we know she will be okay? What if--”

Laaaaannccceee.” Keith says louder, taking Lance by the shoulders and angling his gaze pass the group; the area where he emerged. “Look.”

He does, and far into the distance, two dark specks appear. They grow bigger with passing seconds, the blobs morphing into figures. Humanoid figures. Humanoid figures with flowing white hair and an orange mustache. Blue and white uniforms lined by gold or pink embellished their bodies, pink earrings blinking in the sunless space. Their calm walking turns into running, seeing the team waving them down. Specifically, Lance and Hunk, the two jumping up and down to make themselves more noticable.

“Hey princess! Coran! Over here!”

Soon enough the princess flung herself in Hunk and Lance’s arms, almost knocking them down. She is tiny, but strong. Coran lags behind, calling out how he is an old man and his knees aren’t how they used to be. Though the entire team knew he felt reborn, just as they did.

“Lance, Hunk, oh how I missed you!” She says, holding them closer to her before pulling away. She embraces the rest of them-- lifting Pidge up, cradling Shiro’s head as he bent down, encompassed by Matt’s towering body, and lastly yanking and awkward Keith in, her hug as tight as Hunk’s. The others she went awhile without, but Keith it has been ages. They were never able to become close, but she did consider him a part of her found family. To see him again as well as the others is a blessing she will always be thankful for. Even if it is technically under grim circumstances. 

“And Keith,” she says, as if his name were a hushed secret. “My red paladin, my good friend. I’m so happy to see you again after all these years.”

He leans in, exchanging the gesture. “The feeling is mutual, princess. Thank you for the juniberries you left me.”

Her eyes light up like stars as she recalls finding a planet that had a small patch growing in its climate, the trip long and exhausting, but worth it in the end. “You received them!”

“I did,” His attention back to the entire team, the artifacts everyone left at his grave clear as day. “Hunk’s cooking, Pidge’s inventions, Shiro’s hippo, your juniberries, Coran’s hair tonic, and Lance’s necklace.”

“It’s amazing we didn’t get in trouble with the cemetery owners.” Pidge whispers to Hunk. “We left a lot of stuff.”

“What they going to do, kill us?” Hunk jokes, awaiting for the laughs. When he received groans and shaking heads, he wilts. “Oh come on, that was a good one!”

“I think Lance rubbed off on you too much.” Pidge gripes.

“Speaking of gifts,” Keith starts, seizing Lance’s hand as Allura releases him, backing up with the former blue paladin. Lance looks up at him in confusion, not seeing where he is going with his statement. “There are people waiting for you.”

Soon enough, Keith leads them to their long passed family members. Lance’s, Pidge’s, and Hunk’s parents and siblings. Allura’s father and mother and Coran’s king and queen; Shiro’s husband Adam, who passed before Shiro. And lastly, Keith’s father, the man leading the long deceased group to the retired paladins. 

Their hearts, so enraptured by the darkness of the war and the cost of winning, is free. They, who had sent curses to the universe for its cruelty; yelled out in rebellion to life’s stripping their emotional stability, their security in the blood running through their veins, are truly at rest.

Their bodies may be dead, but they have never felt more alive. 

The group is back together, all smiles and giggles. And the two boys who cried every day for their loved one now stood close together, kissing each other’s cheeks and making the team sick to their stomachs from the sweetness. 

Like the Balmeran stones wrapped around their necks, their light shines brighter than any star.

For they are home.

 

\-----

[Come yell at me on tumblr!](https://stardust-and-blades.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!!
> 
> An end to a story, an end to an era.
> 
> I hope you all loved the story I had to tell. I never thought I would be the one to write this out, but something told me to just try and here we are, ten chapters in, over 180 pages worth of content.
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos, especially comments. Trust me when I say I love hearing from you guys and i hope this ending is what you can walk away from with satisfaction.
> 
> New stories will be coming, but for now enjoy my first ever finished fic!!


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